


The Honey Trap Test

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, no infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Main pairing Sabriel.] Dean and Cas are romance-novel happy, but not everything between them is as it should be. Curious as to why, software engineer Sam Winchester decides to subscribe to a honey trap agency's services, trying to find out why Castiel has contacted such a service in the first place. Sam, however, is not prepared for the strange and very confident little guy that the agency sends to take care of the case. And soon Sam is entangled in a net of lies and mistakes that threatens to destroy Sam's own chance of love and happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honey Trap Test

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gabriel Big Bang 2013. It was a pleasure to work with my wonderful artist, krioboly. Sweet and generous and so very, very talented. I am so grateful for the lovely and cute art they made for my story. Thanks to Sarah and Rosie for providing input, and for looking this over and catching mistakes I hadn't seen. Thanks, darlings!  
> Last but not least, thanks to the mods for running the big bang; there can never be too many long Sabriel fics out there.
> 
>  
> 
> **Link to art:[Art Masterpost](http://krioboly.livejournal.com/1813.html)**

**1\. The Testing Environment**

"What? You're _what_?" Sam's fingers tightened around the phone.

"Cas asked me to marry him. I said yes."

"And when..."

"Two weeks from now. Here. Can you... Are you able to join us, you think, Sammy? The wi-fi's crap, though."

"I'm really sorry, Dean, but I don't think I can. I wish you had said something before. I mean, that Cas had. Man, I'm so sorry that I can't be there. It's just that the projects I'm doing are due _now_. And with unreliable connection..."

Sam shook his head although no one could see him. Dean was on the other side of the globe so unless he'd developed x-ray vision during the week he'd spent in Portugal with Cas, he couldn't, either. Sam really wanted to ignore work and just go. Unfortunately it wasn't an option, not if he wanted to have a business still when he got back from Europe.

"I didn't know. Cas planned it. He had rings and everything. Didn't think he had it in him. God, Sam. I'm getting married!" There was a brief pause. "It's not that you don't approve, is it?"

"Don't be stupid. I'm really happy for you and Cas, I am. It's just that you have only me, and Castiel isn't speaking to his family at all. I wanna go."

Sam paused as Dean tried to convince him that they missed him, and that they could manage to get married without him holding their hands.

"And here I thought you loved me," Sam huffed, not at all serious. "I'd have eloped, too, if Cas had asked me. Don't worry, Dean. I am really glad that you and Cas are getting hitched. I understand." He did. He would have done the same.

He really would.

If he had a boyfriend who'd cared to propose to him instead of breaking up and running off with his stuff, that was. Seen from Sam's corner of the world, marrying in Portugal was infinitely better than being broken up with in Lawrence. He was done crying over Brady months ago, luckily. It took him all of ten minutes and he cried mostly because Brady stole his brand new gaming rig. A three point five terabyte hard drive didn't come cheap, and neither did the twenty-four gigabyte RAM it took. And then he hadn't even started about the graphics card. But Brady had been an asshole, a bit too occupied with himself and far too little with Sam. Luckily both Brady and the new laptop were replaceable. If Brady hadn't ended the relationship, Sam would have broken up with him. It was dead, whatever it was they had.

It still hurt, though.

Speaking to Dean on the phone, listening to his gruff voice, sounding oddly happy, didn't make it better. Right that instant, Sam felt very lonely.

" _Sam? Sam?_ "

"Yeah." Sam returned to reality. "Sorry. Send pictures when you've done the deed. It's all right if the ones of Cas are nude ones," he joked. "Damn, I wish my business wasn't hanging by a thread. I'd have been there otherwise, you know that."

Dean said something incredibly rude, making Sam laugh. He said goodbye and put down the phone on the kitchen table. Sighing deeply, he leaned against it, both palms flat against the cheap Ikea table top. It creaked dangerously. No wonder Brady hadn't cared to steal that one. It needed a replacement. Sam pulled over the laptop and hooked his leg around a stool, pulling it under him.

Alone in his kitchen, looking forward to breakfast for one, an entire weekend without company and far too much work, Sam felt cheated by life. He sat down, poured himself some coffee from the thermos and prepared for a busy morning. He needed to finish the additional piece of coding his client had requested. The day could only come too soon when somebody killed Java for good. And he didn't mean the coffee.

Sam worked for a couple of hours, finally getting the application to run perfectly in the test environment. He ran a subset of test, checking that he'd caught leftover bugs before he decided to take a break. Usually Brady would have been there, finishing his part of the development; Sam wasn't as good with the user interface design as Brady had been. He considered the possibility that the only reason he still missed Brady was that he had to do everything himself. And that included running a business which basically had too little work for two and too much for one.

Mostly Sam just missed Brady's company. When Brady wasn't behaving like a rich, spoiled asshole, he was actually... okay. It wasn't that Sam disliked being alone, though, it was merely nicer not to be.

Taking the laptop with him into the living room, Sam lounged on the couch for some time, idly browsing through a number of random pages, distracting himself from his current state of boring solitary living, so much more obvious when Dean and Cas weren't there. Sam considered for a moment whether he should relocate to the happy couple's cozy apartment downstairs. it had real furniture in it and not just the debris from a stranded relationship. Then again, the day was bad enough without being reminded of what real, dedicated love looked like.

It could be that Sam was just a tiny bit jealous. Dean had known Castiel for years, and no matter how one looked at it, Castiel had always liked Dean better than he liked Sam. Sam pretended that he wasn't hurt by it. It didn't make it better that Castiel had swept Dean off his feet right after his clueless brother finally opened his eyes long enough to realize that Cas was in love with him. Of course Dean was the last person on earth to see it; it had only taken him six years and like a gazillion hints from _everybody_. But when Dean finally got with the program, it turned out to be the match of the millennium.

No, Sam wasn't jealous at all.

Sam clicked on a link, groaning as a pop-up containing an explicit photo of naked men doing naked things together flashed on the screen. "Dean, dammit!" Sam hated it when Dean fiddled with his work computers. Leave them open for five minutes in Dean's presence, and there were all sorts of enticing shit hiding in the browsers. Despite Sam's attempts at protecting the laptops with passwords and firewalls, Dean always managed to fuck with them one way or another. Sam needed to talk to Charlie, convincing her that teaching Dean to hack into stuff was a Very Bad Idea. It wasn't as if Dean didn't have his own Internet connection and his own laptop; he just liked riling Sam up.

Pulling down the browser history, Sam sighed. Porn, porn, porn, erotica and more porn. Sometimes he didn't understand Dean at all. Cas was like every gay man's wet dream, all the way from the beautiful kissy-lips to the innocent blue eyes, down to the nice ass. Castiel was annoyingly gorgeous. If Sam had anyone remotely like him he'd think he was living in his own porn flick. He'd certainly not be surfing the net for bad porn, and he had a rising suspicion that Dean was only doing it to annoy him. Or maybe it was Dean's attempt, telling Sam to get out of the apartment and start seeing other men. Dean never liked Brady.

One of the links caught Sam's attention.

_[http://theangeltrap.com](http://lysanatt.com/theangeltrap) _

Seriously? Dean's browsing habits were getting downright creepy. Sam's finger hovered for a few seconds over the left mouse button. BDSM or young girls? He feared what he'd see. Then curiosity got the better of him and he clicked on the link.

 _The Angel Trap is a professional and very discreet service, providing assistance both locally and on a national scale. We offer consultants of all ages and appearances_ , Sam read. His mind boggled. An escort service?

_We understand that hiring one of our consultants is a big step. We appreciate the sensitive nature of the problem we help solve. If you are not certain you can trust your spouse, our private investigators are highly trained specialists, able to deliver the proof of your spouse's infidelity — or confirm that you have indeed a very dedicated wife or husband._

So, no escort. Frowning, Sam went through the introduction. A honey trap? He'd heard of those, mostly in connection with spies. He thought it was some kind of James Bond-thing where beautiful Russian women seduced Mr Bond to get information, but clearly not. This was real. Sam clicked a few of the site links and read on. Good-looking investigators who sat traps for cheating spouses, or put the faithful ones on trial for jealous wives or husbands. Surveillance for matrimonial litigations. Videos and hidden cameras. Sam found it more eerie than the porn.

Why had Dean been to that site? He thought Cas was cheating on him? Or was Dean having something on the side? Had he lost his mind? Surely Cas would never even bother to look at another man, and judging from the sounds that could be heard from the downstairs bedroom at night and quite often during daytime, Cas certainly kept Dean sated and in what probably was a permanent state of orgasmic bliss. Maybe it was Cas, then? Sam stared at the screen. He pressed the small icon in the menu with _Contact_ on it. No name. Just two phone numbers. One was marked _Office Hours 9am-5pm_. Another, _Emergency Line_.

Sam looked at his wristwatch. 1pm. He was tempted. Deeply tempted. He put the computer down on the floor. He noted distractedly that he needed a carpet and a coffee table. He went into the kitchen to find his phone. Back on the couch, he tapped in the number on the website. About to press 'call', Sam stopped. What the fuck was he doing? This wasn't his business at all, but a matter between Dean and Castiel. He blew out a stream of air, then threw the iPhone on the cushions. Then he picked it up again. He had to admit that his curiosity was not only piqued, but decidedly in bloodhound-mode.

His brother was getting married in two weeks and a day. To a man who was cheating on him. It didn't make sense.

Sam pressed call.

 

"The Angel Trap. Meg Masters speaking. How may I help you?"

"Sa- Samuel Wesson. Erm." Sam regretted instantly that he'd called. "I. Erm."

"Do you wish to talk to one of our investigators regarding our services, sir?" Ms Masters asked politely.

Sam winced. He shouldn't have called, but he could do this. It wouldn't be the first time he had bullshitted his way to information. "I'd like some details regarding one of your cases," he said a bit coldly in the exact tone that a police officer would speak if he was busy and a little bit stressed.

"I'm sorry, Sir. We have a confidentiality clause, so no matter how much I'd like to help, I can't do so without a warrant. If you'd please wait, I'll connect you to our general mana-"

 

Sam disconnected. Of course they wouldn't tell him anything. It still wasn't his business, but he still wanted to know. It sucked. Sam considered the options, none of which were really options, anyway. He could call Dean and ask. He could break into Dean's computer. He could hack into Angel Trap Investigation's mainframe. Or he could mind his own business. The first option was not on and the next two were illegal — illegal in a way that made Sam refuse to even poke at them with a ten foot pole, not that he'd feel guilty fiddling with Dean's computer at all. The last option wasn't better. He had a company whose survival depended on his reputation and he could not afford doing illegal hacking. He wasn't a black hat. Not any longer. But Sam was already sniffing at the trail and he couldn't back down. He had to find another way. The hunt was on.

"The nerd herd," he told himself and punched in a quick text, sending it to three of his friends, all former study buddies, demanding their presence at the nearby coffee shop later in the evening. Their combined brain matter could move mountains and solve the riddle of why socks never came out of the washing machine in equal numbers, so coming up with a solution that satisfied Sam and his curiosity was a question of minutes. Thus prepared for an evening on the town, Sam resigned and went back to work.

A few hours later, Sam knew for sure he was screwed.

Charlie looked at her netbook. "I can go in if you want me to; but they have a hell of a firewall up. And the encryption... It's a piece of art! Going to take some time. I don't like it, Sam. They have a really good sys admin, Michael. He knows what he's doing. I know him from... " Charlie paused. "From somewhere else. I recognize his style. You do not mess with Michael's servers if you don't have a really, really good reason for it. This guy... he's almost as good as I am. Almost. And he is not nice, Sam. You'll be wiping viruses off your laptops for eternity if he finds out where the hack's coming from. Your company will be buried hundred feet underground when he's done with the shovel. Believe me. Michael's family... they've got resources. But for you, I'll do it."

"Don't." Sam couldn't ask Charlie to do what he wouldn't do himself. "It's not that important. Not worth risking your reputation for. Mine too. I'm just-"

"Nosy," Kevin said coldly. "And stubborn. Am I the only one who finds this disturbing? In fact, I find the entire idea about honey traps disturbing. Isn't it as much a betrayal to set someone on your lover? I mean... to make them fall into temptation with someone hired to be a temptation?" Kevin's mouth became narrow and tense; he really didn't like the concept. "Why not talk to Dean?" Kevin continued. "Okay, he's not big on the sharing, but dammit, Sam. Call him." Kevin moved the remains of a roll from one side of his plate to the other. "None of us really believe that Dean's cheating. Or Cas, right? I mean... you have to pry them apart with a crowbar just to talk to them."

Sam let his shoulders fall, his hair hanging down in front of his face. He was actually a bit ashamed of himself. "It seems so... illogical to me too. I mean... Cas has been in love with Dean forever, and Dean is so into him. He's what Dean has needed for the last twenty years, and Dean knows it. That's why I don't understand. Why would he call a company like that Angel agency? But I can't call him on his honeymoon and ask, can I? Why use them? For what? "

"For you? Or to investigate Brady, maybe? He did steal half of your possessions," Garth pointed out callously.

Garth's suggestion wasn't without merit and Sam looked up, his eyes narrow. "For me? I don't think so! I haven't had sex for-" Sam cleverly shut his mouth. He cuddled up in his comfort hoodie, leaning against one of the coffee shop's heavy bookcases. Vonnegut's _Armageddon in Retrospect_ took a dive from the top shelf and landed like a dead bird, spread out on the dark wooden floor. Sam grunted, annoyed with the situation in general, and picked it up. "Oddly fitting... the Brady-situation, I mean." 

"Brady left three months ago," Kevin added. "Doesn't make sense. Your man Brady was an asshole if there ever was one, but he's totally out of the picture, right?" Kevin looked at Sam questioningly.

"So far out that he'd need to book a flight with the Starship Enterprise to get back in. Not gonna happen," Sam said. "Ever. If he was the last man on Earth, then maybe. No, wait... It's still a no."

Kevin nodded, clearly agreeing with that notion. Charlie didn't say anything, but she wasn't into dick, no matter who it was attached to.

Not surprisingly, Garth had used the brief interlude to come up with a suggestion. He had always been a fast thinker. "You have to go undercover."

"I have to _what_?" Sam's eyes widened.

"Fake it 'til you make it," Garth said, his eyes totally innocent, like they usually were when he had cooked up some horrible plan. "Why not? I mean... Brady's gone; you don't have a boyfriend to answer to." Garth downed half his coffee éclair and looked hungrily at the other half. "You can do it. They spy on people, so you spy on them."

"How, I- Oh." It dawned so fast for Sam that his brain almost exploded. "Muh," was all he got out.

"Nice Ron Weasley-impersonation," Charlie said. "Perhaps a bit more eloquent. No wonder Hermione got a divorce and moved in with Minerva."

"Did not," said Kevin. "Have you read the books at all? Hermione has, like, a billion children with Ron."

"Fanon, Kev, fanon. Trumps canon anytime. Update your geek card, will you!" Charlie rolled her eyes. "What _do_ you do on the Internet, dude? You are just... clueless."

"One Harry Potter doth not a geek card make," Kevin argued. "It's a bloody children's book."

The sound Charlie made didn't bode well for Kevin. "You are aware, right, what happens to people who mess with Hermione Granger?"

"No, I can't remember. What does _Obliviate_ mean, by the way? And who are you?" Kevin retorted, obviously exactly as informed about the ins and outs of wizardry and spells in Harry Potter as Charlie. He stuck his tongue out and leaned back in his chair. Kevin - 1, Hermione - 0.

"Guys, we're trying to send Miss Romanoff here out on his first mission," Garth said. "Come on... back to reality, peeps. I'm sure Hermione will do fine on her own. Or I'll send Buffy in to help her kick ass. I can do that."

"You bet she can hold her own!" Charlie nodded. "So, what do you have in mind, Garth? I mean, not with Buffy and Hermy, you perv. With Sam."

Folding his hands behind his head, Garth leaned back, looking very smug. "If the Angels won't tell us, we need to make our own investigation. Let's hit them tonight. With that." Garth nodded in Sam's direction. "Almost seven feet of manliness, right in the feels of their unsuspecting investigator. Smother him with awkward hotness until he confesses. No, seriously. It might be easier to get info if we know how they work. Or to get a confession out of either Dean or Cas, if needed. Perhaps it's even the same guy they send? I think it's worth a try. I can do it myself if Sam doesn't want to. I mean... who could possibly resist me?"

Charlie got into a coughing fit and Kevin suddenly got busy with his coffee. Sam thought it was a bit unfair. Garth wasn't bad. He had nice eyes and he was a good person. Also, and much more of a hindrance: he wasn't gay.

"Nah, don't bother. If we're doing it, I'm going. I mean, if there's going to be any... bodily contact. Not sure you'd be comfortable with that?" Garth was never uncomfortable, but asking him to play the gay boyfriend was a bit much, Sam had to admit.

"They could send a girl." Garth beamed at the thought. "Like Claudia Schiffer. Or Lois Lane. I like mature women."

"Earth to Garth!" Kevin leaned forward, taking the bait. "Claudia Schiffer is in London, Lois Lane isn't real and if we're trying to get a hold of the guy who investigated Cas, he can't very well be a girl, can he?" Kevin had a disturbing knowledge of Ms Schiffer's whereabouts.

"Shit! Lois Lane isn't real? Urgh, that's so unfair. Oh, well." Garth's grin was wide as he turned to Sam. "Okay, you go. I'll call Claudia and ask her out for dinner."

Kevin ignored Garth's rambling and looked from Sam to Garth to and back. "When are we going in? Next week?"

"Tonight." They could just as well get it over with. Sam had taken the night off. Seeing that he had been too busy to join Cas and Dean in Portugal, he couldn't afford to use too much time on the investigation. He just had to do _something_ ; he knew he'd be distracted and continue to wonder about the mystery if he didn't act. Also, he had to figure out if there was a way he could help Dean and Cas to save their marriage. "They have an emergency line, the Angel Trap. It's worth a try. Gimme!" Sam waved his hand at Charlie's netbook. He typed in the address and found the link. "Yeah, here it is. Oh, shit, this is going to be so awkward!"

"Yeah, it's great, isn't it?" Garth was almost brimming with glee. He looked far too smug for his own good. "You've been Gar-"

"Don't say it!" Sam snapped and made a few patrons at the coffee shop's other tables look at him. "I _so_ haven't. I am going to friggin' rule! Shut up, listen and learn! Or get your shit together and move out of your parents' basement before you're dissing my role-playing skills again!"

"Impressive, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet," Garth retorted, looking down over his nose at Sam, a remarkable feat in itself, seeing that Sam was a few inches taller. "And I didn't see you complaining about my parent's basement when your dad skipped town and left you and Dean with nothing but three hundred dollars and a car. "

There was that. Garth lived in a nice apartment in the old part of town now. He had been out of said basement for a decade, not that it stopped Sam from teasing him with it. "Don't blame my dad. He did what little he could for us."

"Right. 'Little' being the prerogative. And you still liked the basement better than the alternative."

"Beats sleeping on the streets, sure. But it was a bit crowded, what with Cas living there, too."

"What can I say? You're not the only one with a dysfunctional family. At least you still talk about yours." Garth sighed. "Which is also why I can't imagine Cas jeopardizing what he has with you guys. You're his family now, Sam. He hasn't seen his asshole brothers for ages."

"I know. Maybe that's why I can't let this go. If there is anything I can do... If one of them really has... you know..." Sam still didn't understand how two people so obviously in love as Cas and Dean would betray each other. They were about to get married, for fuck's sake! "I don't get it. I really don't. I'm just, you know... worried. Confused."

"Then make the call and see what happens. Maybe talking to one of the investigators might actually give us a clue. If we're still voting against doing shit the binary way. Charlie can-"

"No. Stop!" Sam held up his phone. "I'll call. This is me, calling!" He held out a hand. "Your AmEx, Garth. You're the one with money in the bank."

"So I'm gonna pay? In your wildest dreams." Garth shook his head and grabbed his wallet. "I suppose it's for a good cause. And you can't very well use your own card and then go use it again for a hotel room or wherever you end up going with that investigator if you're supposed to be two different persons. They'll notice. They are investigators, for Christ's sake." Garth put the card down on the table. "Use my name when you talk to them. I can be your suspicious boyfriend if you like. Not going to put out, though. It's enough that you took me for the money, honey. Also, my girlfriends will be jealous. Especially Claudia."

"I hate you," Sam said lovingly. He opened the notebook again and found the emergency number he'd seen earlier. "And I most certainly won't go to any hotels. Shut up, everybody."

"Hold it," Garth said. He pushed his HTC over the table. "Better use my phone as well."

"Not necessary. It's my work phone," Sam said. "I can always use my private phone for me, pretending to be my stray boyfriend. It has my name on it, work phone doesn't."

Waiting for the phone to connect, Sam's heart beat a bit faster. He wasn't sure he should be doing this at all. He should disconnect and call Dean, ask for an explanation. Before he thought the thought to an end somebody answered the phone.

 

"The Angel Trap, emergency line. How may we help you?" The voice in the phone was soft and calm and male. It made Sam relax a little bit. The girl he'd spoken to earlier hadn't been all that pleasant.

Sam fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it. He pulled the corner of his sleeve over his mouth, just in case he needed to talk to the person in the phone as himself, hoping it would make him sound differently. "Garth Fitzgerald. I think... I think my boyfriend is... that he's... I saw him. I've been out with friends when I saw him outside..." Sam knew instantly that he should have planned this better. It was going to hell in a handbasket already. "He shouldn't... I... Oh, Damn." Sam gasped for air, feeling stressed and foolish at the same time.

"With another person, or alone?" The man on the phone sounded sympathetic and as if he'd heard the story before. "He was where he shouldn't have been?"

Sam grabbed the life-line with both hands. "Yes! Sorry... I feel so stupid. Outside a venue in Lawrence, Kansas. Iowa Street, to be precise."

"Wilde's Chateau? Got it. We have an investigator in the area; allow us half an hour to get ready and he'll be on the case."

Odd. The company was nation-wide, and the guy on the phone knew Lawrence like he lived in the neighborhood? "Er, yes. How did you-"

"We have software that directs registered phone numbers to an investigator near the caller. Unfortunately I do not have telepathic abilities. Could have been awesome, now that you think of it. Much easier to do the job. Let me take down your info, I suppose this is a matter of urgency. Do you have a picture of your boyfriend?"

"I can send you one as soon as we're done." Sam counted on Garth having a picture of him on his phone, one that wasn't taken today. "Can't miss him, though. He'll probably be the tallest man present. His name is Sam. He's a software designer." Sam went on to describe himself in detail.

"Anything else you wish to tell us?" the Angel Trap guy asked.

"My boyfriend is gay," Sam said, suppressing a need to facepalm himself.

"Really? I'd never have guessed." The voice in the phone was dry. Sam thought he heard a chuckle. "Any other preferences? Any type of man that your boyfriend likes in particular?"

Anyone that wasn't Brady! Sam went for the exact opposite of his former lover. "He likes them small, charming and casual." Yeah, that'd do. Opposite to tall, arrogant and with a stick up their butt the size of the Eiffel tower. If Sam were to be wooed by another man, if only for show, the Angel Trap guys had better send him someone who wasn't reminding him of Brady. He could so do without.

"How often do you want reports?" the guy on the phone inquired. "We can report during the tests, after, or when we have the final result Which do you prefer? We also need to know how far you are comfortable with us to go. My apologies for being direct, but we are able to test your boyfriend's fidelity with a variety of allures. Anything from observation to light flirting. Up to and including physical contact. Kissing."

Sam thought about it for a moment. Frequent reports meant frequent opportunities to ask questions. And physical contact meant an agent who might lower his defenses. At least Sam was confident enough in that area that he thought he might be able to make such an agent a little bit distracted. "All the way. Anything your investigator is comfortable with. Damn, this is so awkward!" Sam felt himself blush. "Reports? After each meeting, please." Not that Sam planned more meetings if the first one was successful, but he couldn't really say that. "The day after, if it suits you."

"Don't feel bad about calling us. We tailor our services to your needs, if it suits you, it suits us," the voice in the phone said. "We'll send our investigator immediately and we'll contact you with a report tomorrow. Thank you for choosing the Angel Trap."

"Excuse me, I didn't get your name," Sam said, but the phone went dead and Sam stared at it as if it was made of something disgusting. 

 

Sam groaned. "Why, oh why, didn't I take the blue pill?"

"Because Kansas went bye-bye already?" Kevin suggested. "So, buckle up, Dorothy. Your date is waiting at the end of the yellow brick Matrix."

"Sweet, Morpheus. You're not the one who's going to let himself be groped by an Angel Trap agent."

"No, thank God. I'll just sit here and enjoy the knowledge that you have to throw yourself at the guy. Or maybe we should go with you? For documentation." Kevin sounded far too chipper at the thought.

"You are _not_ invited, buddy. It's a gay bar. Your sensitive little hetero-heart can't take it." Sam really didn't want his snooping around in Cas and Dean's affairs turned into a spectator sport.

"Hah!" Kevin snorted. "I walked in on Cas and Dean one day. I didn't even use brain bleach. I can take _anything_ you dish."

"You are not coming." Sam growled. "And that's final."

Charlie pulled out her phone and a mike. "We could hook you up with this little darling, so that we can lis-"

"No!" Sam interrupted Charlie before she came up with more appalling ideas. "Guys, honestly. I love y'all, but let me do this my way. I know I'm being stupid, so let me make a fool of myself in private." Sam grabbed his coat. "Have to go. I have a date."

"Whoa," Garth said. "You can't go like that. Dude, you're going to a gay bar and your pants look like they belong to someone twice your size. The hoodie has to go too." Garth looked around. "Charlie, we need your scarf. Kevin, you take Sam's coat, give him your leather jacket." Garth pursed his lips. "And the polo." He nodded in the direction of the long-sleeved rose polo that Kevin had thrown on the top of his laptop case.

Sam frowned. "What are you? My fairy godfather?" All right, so he wasn't exactly dressed to impress, so he got where Garth were going.

"You got decent boxers under those?" Garth pointed at Sam's loose jeans.

"Why don't you get real personal while you're at it," Sam snapped. "CKs."

"Good. Get the gear and come with me. You are going to get into my pants tonight, but I doubt it'll be appreciated if we do it here." Garth stood, grabbing the requested clothes. "Bathroom."

Fifteen minutes later, Sam looked in the mirror. Kevin's rose Fred Perry was very tight and skimpy and left a narrow gap between the hem and the waistband of Garth's jeans, at least a size too small for Sam. The jeans rode low on his hips, and left a peek to the black Calvin Kleins he was wearing. The dark purple scarf that Charlie had borrowed him somehow brought out the golden flecks in his eyes. With Kev's old leather jacket, a bit too tight, Sam looked like a biker's wet dream. If said biker was gay and liked rose Fred Perrys, that was.

"Holy shit," Garth said as he stepped out of the other stall, Sam's loose jeans held up by a belt."Okay, now I'm turning bi-. Sam, dammit. Honestly, _you_ are the one who should get paid to take that agent out on the town."

"You're calling me a hooker now? Thanks, mate." Sam grinned. It was embarrassingly revealing, but even he could see that the outfit was sexy. Not whore-sexy, but seduce-every-gay-man-with-eyes-sexy. He looked good.

"You could earn a fortune with those hipbones." Garth smirked. "I rule. You look fantastic."

"Thanks. I think. I'll be home before midnight, Godmother, because I don't think my prince would want one of my old boots. My hip bones, luckily, are attached firmly to my spine."

After being properly admired by Charlie, Kevin and, judging from the audible whispers, a few other patrons, Sam left the coffee shop. It wasn't a far walk to Iowa Street, and Sam appreciated the cool evening air. He needed to clear his head.

 

**2\. The User Interface**

The club was barely half full. It was still early, and Sam sighed, relieved at the sight of the many empty seats. The music was pleasantly low inside the bar; low enough to be able to talk without shouting. Sam walked through the dark room, considering for a second to sit down near the open fireplace but decided against it. The air was a bit too warm already, hundreds of lit candles and the fireplace burning brightly, lighting up the dark furniture and the wooden panels of the walls. He petted a withering statue on the head as he passed it, the stone devil looking bored. Sam would be too, if he had to stay at _Wilde's_ day in and day out. "Sorry, pal," he told it, hesitating, trying to decide whether to sit down or to buy a drink.

"You know, talking to inanimate objects is never a good sign. Although devil-boy looks like he could need a bit of cheering up. He's probably pining for the pretty angels over there." The guy nodded in the direction of the two granite angels that guarded the entrance to the adjourning dance floor.

Sam took a step back and looked at the speaker. _Down_ at the speaker, to be precise. A short guy, probably ten years older than he, smirked up at him.

"Now that we are speaking of pretty boys... " The guy tut-tutted. "You're too cheap to buy a pair of jeans that fits? Not that I mind seeing beforehand what I'm getting, but it can't be very comfortable." He winked and sent Sam a bright smile, easing the words, letting Sam know that he was joking, at least Sam thought that was what the guy meant to say.

" _I_ am getting offended. What are you getting?" Sam asked, glaring. "Who told you you're getting anything, by the way?"

"I was thinking that I was going to get... you."

Sam frowned disbelievingly. Okay, the guy wasn't too bad to look at, and it was clear from his tone of voice that he wasn't entirely serious. Which was good, because Sam really didn't appreciate being treated like a piece of meat. "You can always hope, but don't hold your breath."

"See, that's where you're wrong. My charm, boy-o... there's no way you can stand against it. I'm just that good."

Sam was sure the guy was right, for his smile was endearing and despite his attitude he was... a little bit charming. But he was still annoying. Reminding himself why he was here in the first place, Sam forced himself not to ask the man to go to hell and take his charm with him. There was a possibility that Short Guy was the Angel Trap agent, and Sam had to act his part. Sam needed to let the agent do his job so that he could observe and learn. Else it'd be a waste of time and money, and the service had been expensive enough as it was. Schooling his face into a neutral expression, Sam managed to keep his annoyance down. "I've heard poor pick-up lines in my time, but that one takes the prize."

"Hm." The guy looked like he was thinking. So he was able to. Reassuring. Sam could have been fooled there. "I think you're right. Only an idiot would have fallen for that one. If you'll give me a second, I'll come up with another, something a bit more intellectual, perhaps. Or is there a particular style you prefer? I can work with that, I'm sure. I mean, I'd probably like to see you again, so I can't afford being lazy with the flirting. Efficiency. Saves time."

"Er, okay." Sam was flabbergasted to say it mildly. Not at all what he had expected; neither the man, nor the flirting. The agency agent was dressed in an faded black t-shirt with a picture on it that looked like a print from an old DOS-prompt. His jeans could use a replacement as well. They were ripped and torn and not in the artful way that one could pay to get in a fashion store. He wore a pair of shoes that had been expensive at some point; they could definitely do with a polish. The investigator, however, bore the clothes as if they'd been Armani and Prada. The shoes even looked like it, except for the scratches. "Feel free," Sam got out, "to improvise. Won't guarantee that it works. Your level is sorta low already."

"Let's hit the bar. I can multitask. How about you?"

"I'm a software engineer. I multitask for a living, dude."

"A software designer? Just what I was looking for." The guy hooked his arm under Sam's and steered them towards the booze. For someone his size, the man was incredibly strong, not that Sam fought him, but the wiry muscles and the lean, hard fingers showed Sam that the small guy wasn't a weakling. Menial work or a hard workout on a daily basis. It was as if he made up for his lack of height by power and confidence. Usually Sam would have stepped away from someone like him. Too much self-esteem and shit. But the man was neither truly arrogant, nor was he especially narcissistic, at least Sam didn't think so. Banter, innuendo and jokes, yes, but none of it was serious.

"I'm Gabriel, by the way," Short Guy said, letting go of Sam, turning around to smile up at him.

"No last name?" Sam asked, thinking that it probably wasn't a piece of information that honey trap investigators threw around casually.

"It's the new black. Mystery and secrecy. And I didn't get any of your names, so stop complaining." Gabriel's smile was so bright that Sam felt a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. 

It was the light over the bar, however, that made it possible for Sam to take a better look at his new companion, finding himself oddly fascinated with the way he looked. The strange little man wasn't ugly, that wasn't it. He was almost handsome, but not quite. Too short, his nose too large and his face elongated. Strange. But the eyes, holy fuck, the eyes. Sam found himself staring. Almond eyes, narrow and alive, golden flecks, amber and brown. Predator. And there was something else. Power. It was power. Gabriel simply exuded strength. So much it made Sam feel weak and small, and that certainly didn't happen too often. This wasn't what he had expected when he'd asked for short, casual and charming. Fascinated to the verge of finding himself utterly enchanted, Sam forced out half a sentence. "I'm... _God_." Oh, that didn't go so well.

"You are? Well, you certainly look like one," Gabriel, no last name, said. "One of those gorgeous Greek dudes. Too much clothes on, though. If you look at statues of Greek gods, they're usually more naked. Is there any chance that you are getting more naked, Adonis? Because then I'm gonna stay and watch the show."

"Greek gods have little penises," Sam said without thinking. "And my name is Sam."

"I doubt very much that nature, which usually makes some ironic form of sense, has granted you that size all over, but then decided to leave out the most important part."

"I just met you and now you are discussing with me the size of my dick?"

"Would you rather we discussed Plato? Or Baudrillard's idea of how capitalism and advertising create a simulacrum of the real that destroys reality? Sartre's and Lévi-Strauss's perceptions of free will, perhaps? We can do that. Mine's above average for my size, by the way. My dick, not my free will. It's only fair that you know. Again, nice that nature sort of made up for its mistake of making me short. I should have been, you know, seven feet tall, and see where that got me. If I'd been proportional, my porn flicks wouldn't have sold as many copies."

"You... you have-" Sam's brain refused to process the information. "Best-seller porn? Seriously?"

Gabriel grinned. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you. They didn't sell that well."

"Wait. You're a porn star with a cock the size of Brazil?"

"More like... Italy. I like the shape. Long and slender. And I'm still fucking with you. I haven't been in any pornos, promise. It'd make all the other actors look bad, and we can't have that. All male porn stars in the States, suffering from collective erectile dysfunction because of me? I couldn't possibly let that happen. I mean... I need porn to watch just as much as the next guy, right? Until I have _you_ to myself, that is. Who the hell would watch porn if they had you?" Gabriel held up his hands as if to apologize, which Sam found ridiculous. Gabriel didn't know the meaning of apologies, that much was a given.

"Sorry to ask," Sam said, "but where is your social worker? Or the nurse? They surely didn't let you out by yourself? I mean, the psychiatric hospital..."

"Oh, right to the insults. I _like_ you, Sam-o." Winking at Sam, Gabriel grabbed his hand. "Admit it, you like me, too, baby. Short, crazy, big dick. You'll learn to like it if you don't already. Now, let's get that drink."

The bad part was that he was right. Sam liked the tiny whirlwind that was Gabriel and that after having known him for less than ten minutes. Compared to Brady there was no comparison. Sam had wished for anything that wasn't Brady, and he certainly got it. He was a bit breathless from the encounter, still, but that was all right. "Yeah, I could use a drink," he said, trailing after Gabriel to the bar. "Or two."

"I'm overwhelming, I get that. You'll get used to that as well. I'm usually more relaxed when I'm not running into handsome Greek gods whom I might or might not want to marry as soon as possible. It makes me nervous. I'm an overachiever, you know."

"And obviously stark, raving mad. I'll have a-"

" _Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall_. There is orange juice in it and you look like one of those health freaks to me. You can have one without the orange juice, but that'll be at your place. I'm not dropping my pants here, and the walls are filthy. Your shirt will be ruined before I'm done with you." Gabriel turned to the bartender who seemed to ignore all other patrons, waiting for Gabriel's order. "A Comfy Screw for my husband-to-be and an _Orgasm_ for me."

"I don't get an orgasm? Now I feel cheated," Sam heard himself say. Gabriel had a bad influence on him, which in itself was impressive.

"I'll give you all the orgasms you want, pretty boy, but don't you think we need to get to know each other a bit better first?"

"Says the man who just announced I'm going to marry him. I bet you say that to all the boys."

"No, just to the tall and gorgeous ones named Sam." 

"Surely you meet a lot of those. They make us in that factory over at Massachusetts Street."

Gabriel took their drinks when the bartender served them. "Come on, gorgeous, let's sit down. Before your copies overrun the place. I want to mark you as mine. Don't wanna confuse you with the other Sammies. I'm sure you're the best of the lot." Leading the way, Gabriel found an empty booth in one of the dark corners. "Not that I plan to suck you off under the table," Gabriel said, "it's just more quiet here, if you wanna talk. Won't want to be disturbed by the assholes they let in here. I mean, nobody decent comes here." He put the drinks on the table and moved to sit by the wall. "Next to me," Gabriel demanded. "Won't guarantee that you won't be groped once or twice. By me. There are probably others who'd want, but I'll defend your virtue like it was my own."

"You have a virtue?" Sam didn't think Gabriel had ever had one, and in case he did, it had probably fled in fear of what Gabriel would do to it. He slid in next to Gabriel, pretending not to notice the arm on the backrest. What the hell. He had to play the part, and the idea wasn't exactly appalling.

"That hurt," Gabriel said, casually letting his hand touch Sam's shoulder. "I am very virtuous." He actually sounded as if he meant it and it made Sam look at him with renewed interest, not that he'd had time to lose any, because he'd rarely met such a colorful character in his life. "And I'll make sure that you are too. I wouldn't like my husband to flirt with anyone else."

"Sorry to break it to you, but my virtue is fine as it is, Gabriel. Used, but in good shape. I think I can defend it if needed." He leaned in, conspiratorially. "I don't think I'm in immediate danger, though."

"Really?" Gabriel dragged out the word and sent Sam a yet another of those smiles that lit up the surroundings.

Sam couldn't help it: he had to admit that Gabriel was annoying, infuriating, bossy, headstrong and very, very charming. Gabriel's smile went right to his groin and it made his heart beat a little faster, too. He'd been so used to Brady's conditional love, if one could even call it love, that this open appreciation was getting to him. To Brady, Sam had never been good enough, never satisfying enough, never subservient enough. It wasn't that Brady had said anything, but Sam had felt his disapproval hover over their relationship for months before they broke it off. Brady had wanted a trophy wife and Sam certainly wasn't one. 

"To be serious," Gabriel said in a tone that matched his words, pulling Sam out of his musings, "you are here alone? Someone like you shouldn't be here alone. I mean... I just wondered why some lucky dude hasn't already put a ring on your finger. Men who come here have eyes, although some seem to lack brains. It's not natural that you're not taken. I'm not coming on to you or anything..."

"You aren't?" Sam let out a disbelieving laugh. "Maybe you shouldn't have made that marriage proposal, then. Would have made it easier getting to the suspension of disbelief." Sam shook his head. The guy was unbelievable. On the other hand, the question was honest enough, except for the fact that Gabriel was employed by the Angel Trap and was paid to ask such questions. The idea of Gabriel being paid made Sam a bit sad. Sam told himself that he needed to abandon the idea of Gabriel being anything but an employee of the company that Sam was spying on. He needed to think of a proper reply, too. Sam was undercover. He needed to observe and learn and for that he needed a believable story.

As close to the truth as possible, then. Brady. He could use Brady. Pretend that Brady was stalking him. Might earn him Gabriel's sympathy although he probably was too professional to fall for a lure like that. "I have this boyfriend," Sam began. "Had, to be precise. Not a terribly nice one... and we broke up recently. I-" Sam hung his head as if it made him sad to think about it. It did, but mostly because he hadn't seen what an asswipe Brady was until it was too late. "I don't want him back, but he doesn't seem to understand that. Garth... he's a bit of a douchebag." Sam congratulated himself that he remembered that his pretend boyfriend's name wasn't Brady.

"If he broke up with you, he really, really can't be too clever." Gabriel said it calmly, as if all the sparkling sarcasm had left him. He said it like he really meant it. "What did he do to you, Sam?"

"Except for breaking up with me because I didn't fit his idea of the perfect little wife, steal my stuff and on top of that pretending that it was all my fault? Nothing. Only he seems to have some regrets. He won't leave me alone." The emotions that he'd kicked into a dark corner of his mind, refusing to deal with them because he was so _angry_ with Brady were suddenly out in the open and Sam had to pause, taking a gulp of the Comfy Screw that Gabriel had bought for him. Sam coughed as the strong drink slid down his throat. "Uh," was all he could say.

Gabriel frowned. "That doesn't sound healthy. I mean, your ex. He is your ex, right? I'm not really into touching other people's-"

"He is _not_ my boyfriend," Sam with so much angry conviction that it surprised even himself. "I fucking hate the guy. He wiped the dirty floor with my custom-made Matrix t-shirt and he stole my brand new Toshiba! And he had the audacity to appropriate half of _my_ furniture and leave me with a crappy Ikea table top and a Hovås couch with a spot where I spilled a cup of coffee one day. Who the hell calls a sofa 'Hovås' by the way? Don't you have to be in Sweden to even pretend to be able to pronounce it?"

"Hovås," Gabriel said and it sounded exactly as it probably should. "Obviously it works in Lawrence too. I'm really sorry, Sammy, that you had to go through all that. But I'm somehow unable to feel sad, if you get my meaning." Gabriel put his hand on top of Sam's. "To be honest I'm glad that you're not seeing anyone. Especially that you're not seeing such a douchewad." Gabriel's strong warm fingers lay there like a small promise. "Really, _really_ glad."

Sam turned his head and his eyes met Gabriel's. It was like an electrical current that suddenly completed, a shiver running down Sam's spine at the desire he saw in them. Sam bit his lip, breathless. They sat like that for seconds, the time ticking by unnoticed. Then Sam reminded himself that Gabriel still was on the payroll and not merely a great guy with a lot of humor and a tight little ass. One Sam wouldn't mind getting his hands on, if he had to admit it.

Sam broke the silence. "Yeah. Let's... Something else. What is it that you do when you aren't pretending to be a porn star and proposing to guys known for less than ten minutes?"

"Software. Same as you."

Oh _really_? Sam stopped himself from smirking. He could trap Gabriel with this. He'd know if Gabriel faked it."Extreme programming then. That's what I do. What kind of development?"

"I'm a freelancer. Case-to-case. Mostly R.A.D."

"Rapid application development? Prototypes? Oh." If Gabriel knew that much about programming, then it was hard to understand why he worked for the Angel Trap. He wasn't just an amateur who fiddled a bit with PHP or C++, not if he had the brains to do that kind of development.

"I have great imagination, Sam-o." Gabriel looked over his glass at Sam. His lips curled arrogantly and Sam wasn't in doubt what Gabriel meant. 

"Another sexual innuendo and I'm going to-"

"Yes? Don't hold back, Sammy, it isn't a shame to come in your pants. I can take it." Gabriel wriggled his eyebrows. He licked the rim of his glass, looking at Sam's crotch, leaving no doubt about what he thought he could take, precisely.

"You're incorrigible. I talk about programming and you slide right down below the belt."

"M-hm. It's a great place to be. But if you insist I can lick your nip-"

"I assure you, I don't." Sam took another gulp of his drink and braced himself for more Gabriel. Somehow he managed to hang on to the subject of coding long enough to realize that Gabriel probably knew a bit about programming that Sam didn't. He also found out that Gabriel was very much able to discuss the velocity of swallows, the mileage of the Starship Enterprise and the relative speed of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. He also learned that Gabriel liked Tank better than Dozer and that he found Trinity malnourished, a fact that made Sam mope for all of five minutes before they both agreed that Agent Smith was hot and that they'd both bend over for Hugo Weaving in a second, provided that he ditched the Elrond costume beforehand. Neither wanted to do it with an elf. Even if the elf looked like Hugo. The Woman in Red, Mouse's invention, did nothing for neither of them, though.

A few drinks and four hours later. Sam realized he hadn't had this much fun since before he met Brady, He couldn't remember having had this much fun for a very long time. It had to stop. He liked Gabriel so much that he actually wished he could see him again. It couldn't happen. Sam downed his drink and said, "No way that Merleau-Ponty wasn't right about the notion that bodies don't _exist_ in space and time. We _inhabit_ space and time. Perceptual consciousness, arising from the body-subject, Gabe!"

"It transcends subject/object dualism. The body is not an object, just like the consciousness of the body isn't a thought. It makes us question the notion of being in and being out-"

Zoning out for a moment, Sam realized one thing. He needed to stop this, not now, but _right_ now. Before he was in so deep that he drowned. Gabriel was talking about the consciousness of the body. It was as if Sam's body had lost the connection with his brain, as if his body had decided to establish this comfortable connection with Gabriel behind the back of his mind. It had to stop. Gabriel was not a potential lover, boyfriend or, as Gabriel teasingly had suggested, marriage-material. He was the hired hand. Sam had been so deep into their conversation that he'd stopped noticing time, the surroundings, everything but Gabriel. Nobody else existed but the two of them.

Sam was going to regret it, he knew. Tonight. Tomorrow. A month from now. Maybe he'd regret it for much longer. "I really need to go," Sam said and got up, cutting off the topic of conversation abruptly. "I have work tomorrow, so... erm-" Sam wasn't trying to flee. Not at all. He had a business to take care of, and getting back this late, or this early, if one preferred, ruined Sam's day. For a second he felt as if he couldn't breathe. "I'm sorry, Gabriel."

"Wait," Gabriel said in a tone that suggested that he was used to giving orders.

Sam froze. He looked down at Gabriel. He didn't think it was a part of the Angel Trap's service to boss around the clients. Only Sam wasn't a client. He was a target that needed to be tested and tried. "Excuse me?"

"You are not going anywhere," Gabriel said with conviction. He got up too. A few steps and he was pushing Sam up against the table. "Not until I say so."

Sam took in a deep breath, air sucked in between his teeth. How could Gabriel be so strong and dominant? Gabriel's presence seemed to loom so much larger than his physical frame. It was both enticing and a little bit scary. No wonder the Angel Trap had hired him; he had charisma enough for five men twice his size. "And when are you going to say it, then? _So_?"

"To quote Agent Smith, what good is a phone call if you aren't able to speak?" Gabriel purred and put his hand on Sam's chest. "Can't say anything if I'm kissing you, can I?"

"Probably not," Sam croaked. "But-"

"Shut up, Sam," Gabriel said and pulled Sam down to cover his lips with his own.

Somehow Gabriel's height was absolutely perfect because he kissed so that Sam's legs gave under him, leaving him leaning against the heavy oak table, one arm around Gabriel's waist and a hand buried in his lush hair. Gabriel allowed them a brief gulp of oxygen and cold air mixed with the slick warmth of Gabriel's tongue licking out Sam's mouth, tasting his lips and sliding over his teeth. Gabriel tasted of oranges and cherries and of the Orgasms that clearly had some sugary stuff in them. Still too surprised to react other than by holding on to Gabriel, trying not to make a fool of himself, Sam gave in, gave up protesting, and he let Gabriel have what he wanted.

The pressure of Gabriel's hipbone on his thigh, just along the seam of his zipper, made Sam's breath hitch, the air stuck for a second. He gasped and pulled Gabriel flush against his body. Strong muscles flexed underneath his fingers, the soft fabric of the old shirt, slightly too small for Gabriel, made Sam slide his hands downwards, to the waistband of Gabriel's jeans. It satisfied Sam that Gabriel jerked slightly as he ran his thumbs along the edge, nothing between the tips of his fingers and Gabriel's warm skin.

Gabriel made a mewling sound. "Sam," he breathed into Sam's mouth, resuming the kiss with even more urgent enthusiasm. He nibbled at Sam's lower lip, teeth worrying it. "God, I'm so hard for you," Gabriel groaned, his voice dark and rough.

Sam gasped as if he was woken up abruptly from a bad dream. The problem was that the dream wasn't bad — it was fantastic. It was still a dream, though, and Gabriel was hard and wonderful and sexy, and fuck, Sam wanted him like mad. But Gabriel was also a paid investigator, doing this for money. It was work. Which meant that all his flirting and the kisses were exactly as honest as a sales talk from a used car dealer. "I need to go," Sam said, more dismissively this time. "I really do."

Gabriel's hand closed around Sam's wrist in a tight grip. Again Sam was surprised by his strength. "I want to see you again, Sammy. Promise me that I'll see you again."

"I-" Sam wanted to, he did. He could tell himself that he was gathering information, and it would be half-way true. The other half, the half that reacted so strongly to Gabriel... that had nothing to do with information. "I don't think-"

Gabriel's eyes glittered dangerously. "Promise. Me. Now." He looked so determined that Sam wondered why Gabriel had ended up an investigator. Investor had been more like it. Strong, confident, obviously intelligent, bossy and utterly charming, he could have taken Wall Street. Sam had been very interested had they met at another time, in another setting. He'd probably never have let Gabriel get away, in that case.

Gabriel's fingers lay like a band of iron around Sam's wrist. "Sam?"

He couldn't. He had to refuse. He had found out what little he could, he was sure. Dean wouldn't have fallen for this. Any more meetings was a waste of money. He had to say no. "Yes. I promise."

"Friday. Same time and place," Gabriel demanded. "And don't make me pull apart the universe because you don't show up. I'll have to come and find you if you don't."

Somehow Sam didn't doubt that Gabriel would do exactly that. Sam really wanted to believe that Gabriel would tear up the universe for him.

It was a much better truth than the truth.

 

**3\. The Test Runs**

The pale daylight was peeking through the curtains when Sam woke up. He groaned and reached for the clock radio which was blasting some horrible pop song. Sam groaned and got up on his knees. He'd slept in the wet spot again. For the fifth night in a row he'd had a wet dream so vivid and realistic that he could just as well have invited Gabriel back to his place and let him have at it. He stretched and winced. His boxers were smeared with drying come. God, he needed to get laid, but not by Gabriel. He couldn't. He simply couldn't, no matter how attracted he was to the Angel Trap agent. It had been a mistake to agree to meet him a second time. Sam refused to think of it as a date. It just looked like one. It looked very much like one.

Peeling off the boxers, Sam grabbed a towel and headed towards the bathroom when his phone vibrated on the bedside table. He turned on his heel. _Gabriel_. Again.

_Morning, Sam-o. Did you dream of me?_

I-h-a-t-e-y-o-u-, Sam typed, then erased the letters. _Yes. Horrible nightmare. I look forward to tonight_. Better. Or worse, depending on point of view. Sam pressed 'send'.

He so needed to get his priorities right. He needed to stop replying to Gabriel's messages. All — he looked at the display — hundred and twenty three of them.

Another message popped up. _I was good, wasn't I?_

"Yes, and you're going to do my laundry, you bastard, I don't have more clean sheets," Sam said as he put the phone down and went on with his business. One meeting, five days and he was screwed. He was having wet dreams about the man who was spying on Dean or Cas and it was not going to go anywhere. Standing in the shower Sam swore to himself that he'd tell Gabriel tonight that they couldn't meet again, and tomorrow he would cancel the services at the Angel Trap. Before things went too far. As if 'too far' wasn't already something that could be spotted in the rear view mirror.

Sam was almost done, one towel wrapped around his waist as he was drying his hair with another, when phone rang. It was his work phone, so he left a trail of wet footprints through the apartment to get the call as fast as possible. He looked at the display. A number he didn't know. Unfortunately he couldn't afford the luxury to let a potential customer escape.

 

"Impala Software Development."

"It's me."

"Who?" Oh, Sam didn't have any trouble hearing who _me_ was. The last person on earth he cared speaking to. Sam didn't want to give Brady the satisfaction of being recognized immediately.

"It's Brady. I'm sure you remember me."

"Unfortunately. What do you want?" Sam felt ill. He had hoped he'd seen the last of his former boyfriend. The stolen Toshiba had seemed a waterproof guarantee, but clearly Brady had little shame.

"It's been a long time, Sam. I wanted to... how are you?"

Fine, as soon as I got rid of you, sucker. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Listen, I don't have time-"

"Aw, Sam. You used to want me to have more time for you, and now that I have, you are playing hard to get."

"Right. Cut the crap. What do you want, Brady?"

There was a short pause. "I saw you the other day, Sam. At Wilde's. With someone quite below your standards."

"Yes, let's talk about my standards, Brady, because-"

"You should let me take you out to dinner and drinks. _Wilde's_ later, if you want. But drop the trashy little guy. It's really not you — to be rolling in the dirt like that."

Sam coughed, choking. "Seriously?" Sam sat down at the bed. And he'd thought that Gabriel was arrogant? It was typical: Brady didn't share well. When Sam had used Brady as his model for an asshole boyfriend he hadn't been exaggerating that much. Sam had looked elsewhere, at another man, and now Brady was all jealous and wanted back in? Christ. "Thanks, Brady, but that won't be necessary. I was done rolling in the dirt, as you so eloquently call it, three months ago. After being with you, anything is a step up from the giant pile of feces that you are."

"You really don't mean that. Think about it, Sam. You know what I can give you."

"Yeah. I do. That'd be the laptop you stole and the furniture that wasn't yours to take. I'd like _those_ back. Not you." Sam really didn't want to deal with Brady. Ever again. "Goodbye." 

 

Sam disconnected, proud that he actually behaved courteously. Within reason. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He would not let Brady ruin his day. Not when he had an evening with Gabriel to look forward to. Repressing entirely that he had promised himself that he'd tell Gabriel that they couldn't meet again, Sam got to work.

Around noon he was disturbed by the work phone again. This time it was the Angel Trap. Sam had forgotten that they had promised him a report. Luckily he recognized the number from the website and took a deep breath before he answered, aware that it could be Gabriel who called. He put the corner of his sleeve over the mike, hoping it would be enough to sound like someone else, like the imaginary Garth Fitzgerald.

Relieved Sam heard the voice of the woman he'd talked to the very first time he'd called, Meg Masters.

"We have a first report for you, Mr- er- Fitzgerald. Fortunately, it is short. Our agent reports that nothing unusual took place." It sounded like Ms Masters turned a few pages. "There is one note here, though."

"Yes?" Sam said, trying to say as little as possible, reminding himself that he was currently his own imaginary stalker ex-boyfriend from hell. "Anything I should know about?"

"Our agent has noted... I am not sure exactly what he means, sir. 'Talk to lawyer about repercussions against stalkers.' Does that make any sense to you?"

"No," Sam replied. "It really doesn't."

After the brief conversation, Sam sat in deep thought for a while. Gabriel had been lying to the company. Since Sam had mapped out Gabriel's tonsils with his tongue and rubbed against him, moaning shamelessly, there had been more than enough to send any suspicious spouse into a fit of jealous rage. Instead of handing in that delicious tidbit, Gabriel had lied to the Angel Trap, risking his job?

Sam wasn't sure what was going on. Yes, Gabriel obviously liked him, and he liked Gabriel, but Sam didn't think that Gabriel was more than a good actor who had been a bit attracted by the guy he was paid to seduce. Maybe he was wrong? The odd note, however... It couldn't be read as anything but a warning that only Sam's imaginary stalker boyfriend Garth Fitzgerald would understand: 'Leave Sam alone, or...'. Had Gabriel really gone that far to protect him? Sam shivered: it was as if Gabriel had taken it upon himself to keep him out of harm's way. Gabriel was truly special, in more ways than one.

Now Sam just wished that the real Brady had gotten the same kind of underhanded warning. Sam groaned; now he had two men he needed to get rid of, one substantially more than the other. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? Sam knew Brady — the real Brady — well enough to know that he didn't take no for an answer. As for Gabriel? Gabriel clearly didn't understand the meaning of the word, a fact that annoyed Sam considerably less.

Sam went back to work. He managed to solve the Java problem, and he began working on another and much more interesting application. He forgot everything around him for a while; only when his private phone beeped, delivering yet another message did he leave the laptop.

Gabriel again. Well, it was only the fourth time today, so they were cutting down.

_Two hours. Can't wait. Wear as little as possible. G_

Sam blushed. Gabriel was unashamed. Unfortunately it made Sam think about what he could do with Gabriel if they both wore as little as possible. He texted back:

_I'm totally naked underneath my clothes. Just imagine that. Pervert. :P_

Gabriel didn't reply, but Sam was sure the guy probably sat somewhere, grinning, because he knew exactly how much he affected Sam.

Fridays at Wilde's was quite different from the place on weekdays. The bar and the dance floor were full, the music loud. Sam made it through the entrance and wardrobe without being groped too much. He used to come here once in a while, before Brady, only rarely after. Gay bars, no matter how high-end, weren't Brady's style and Sam didn't care to go alone. Finally getting a spot at the bar, he greeted the bartender with a smile and got one in return; Sam wasn't easily forgotten, it seemed.

"What can I do for you," the guy said, winking at Sam. "I certainly wouldn't mind to cater to _all_ of your wishes."

Laughing, Sam gave the bartender an appreciative look. Slender hips and broad shoulders. Not bad. "Thanks for the offer, but I have everything I need." He thought of Gabriel's overwhelming personality and added, "And then some. Except for a drink, that is."

Using a bit more than a few minutes in front of the mirror before he left, Sam knew he looked good. Deciding between a brand new pair of black Levi's and his old jeans, a bit too tight, the worn denim won. The black shirt he'd found after a quick trip downstairs to rummage around in Dean's closet looked as if it was painted on, and it looked great with the jeans. Sam thought that Gabriel might like them, too, leaving exactly enough to imagination to provoke really, really filthy thoughts. Except he hadn't dressed for Gabriel. Of course he hadn't.

"A pity." The bartender poured a Bourbon for Sam. "On the house, gorgeous."

Sam rewarded the bartender with a wide smile. "Thanks."

He turned, leaning against the bar, taking a sip of his drink. He stood there for a while, watching people. Sam looked at the clock on his phone. He had no idea whether Gabriel was the punctual type. Perhaps not. It would somehow be a relief if Gabriel didn't show up on time. Sam could leave, then cancel the Angel Trap service first thing tomorrow. Sam indulged in the idea for a minute and managed to convince himself that it was all right to have this brief encounter, a few hours of pleasure and fun. He hadn't had too much of that lately, and Gabriel didn't seem like the type who'd mourn for weeks the loss of a potential lover. Except there was no potential and Gabriel only did was he was paid to do. Yeah, Sam could take from Gabriel what he'd paid for.

Then the crowd parted, a bit like Moses parting the Red Sea, not that Sam had been present at the event. Clearly Sam wasn't the only man susceptible to Gabriel's charisma. OneRepublic's _Everybody Loves Me_ was blasting from the speakers, and Sam couldn't help laughing as Gabriel approached, leaving more than a few turned heads and appreciative looks. No wonder; Gabriel had looked great the first time they met. Tonight he was simply stunning. Sam really couldn't help staring as Gabriel walked up to him. God help him, he was so screwed.

Behind him the bartender made an annoyed sigh. "Can't compete with _that_ ," he commented. "Either you've got it or you don't."

Yeah, that was very true. And Gabriel got it and tonight he flaunted it. Neither handsome, nor tall, nor rich, just _Gabriel_ and that was enough. And one more thing Gabriel had was Sam. Right there and then, Sam wanted to belong to Gabriel so badly it hurt.

Sam couldn't stop himself from smiling. Anyone who, like Brady, had taken Gabriel for a lesser man would be sorely disappointed.

Gabriel still wore the same ripped jeans, but the casual shirt looked new and had a discreet logo that had nothing to do with computers but a lot with status and money. Even the shoes were polished. Yeah, they surely were Pradas. Maybe Gabriel had a wealthy cousin, because Sam didn't think that relationship investigators earned that kind of money. Maybe it was true that Gabriel had once worked in computers. Sam couldn't stop himself from staring. Gabriel didn't look that different from the last time he'd seen him, and then again... Gabriel was hot, and Sam really wasn't the only man who thought so, judging from the heated looks he got. It was as if the power Sam had sensed the first time the met was more prominent, less suppressed now that the clothes somehow fit the man and the charisma. 

Even though they were feet away from each other, it was as if the crowd faded away. Their eyes met and Sam couldn't look away. Gabriel's beautiful, golden eyes pulled him in, held him still as he was breathing deeply, trying to regain the foothold that he lost just by looking at the man. Five days, and his body shivered from lust and longing, every inch of him hungry for Gabriel's touch.

"Miss me, baby?" Smiling in that confident, secure manner, Gabriel made Sam weak in the knees. More weak in the knees.

Sam couldn't just throw himself at Gabriel, not for the lack of want. "Don't know where you got that idea," Sam said instead, smiling so brightly it hurt. It was impossible for him to pretend that he was entirely unaffected. Sam wasn't even sure whether he was blushing or not; his cheeks felt heated and flushed. "I only agreed to meet you out of pity."

"I have the texts to prove the opposite, that's where I got the idea." Gabriel smirked. "Now, what do you say, should we discourage all those men who are ogling you in the vain hope that you aren't taken?" Licking his lips, leaving no doubt what he wanted, Gabriel reached out, unceremoniously grabbing a handful of Sam's hair. "Kiss me."

"I am _not_ taken and stop bossing me around," Sam attempted, knowing he'd lost. "You're incredible." Since Sam had used just about all the hours in which he hadn't slept or coded thinking about kissing Gabriel, any argument against it was sort of lost beforehand. Especially because one or two of the texts Sam had sent could be interpreted in that direction, that he would like to kiss Gabriel very much.

"I know I am. Taken. If you want me." Looking up at Sam, parting his lips, Gabriel made an irresistible temptation. "And I am going to take you _right_ now."

"Fuck," Sam groaned, realizing that he was speaking out loud, revealing his defeat. He could see victory painted all over Gabriel's face. He gave in — how could he not? — and kissed Gabriel, letting go of the piled up jumble of feelings that he'd fought all week. Almost desperate for touch, Sam thrust his tongue into Gabriel's mouth, dominating the kiss for a few seconds, a hand firmly closed around Gabriel's jaw. The rough scratch of stubble and the slick slide of Gabriel's hot, warm tongue made Sam moan, and he let his guard down for a second. Gabriel took the chance and slammed Sam up against the bar, taking over the kiss, almost devouring it, hungry for more.

It took a while before Gabriel let go, his lips slick with saliva and his eyes shining. He was half-hard just from the kiss, his length rubbing against Sam's cock. "Let's dance," Gabriel said in a manner that made it clear that he could just as well have said _let's fuck_. He slid his index finger over his lips, wiping them, the tip of his tongue brushing over the end of his finger.

"Tease," Sam growled, taking another kiss before someone politely tapped him on the shoulder, signaling that they should get on with the show or move so that people could order at the bar. Sending the man an apologizing grin, Sam grabbed Gabriel's hand, leading them towards the dance floor.

The floor was full, the music loud. A pounding bass vibrated through the room, gripping their bodies, pulling them with it into the rhythm. Around them men were laughing and drinking. Some were kissing, some dancing. The gobos cast flickering lights across the room, occasionally lighting up the stone angels at the entrance. The patterns of light and shadows hid them from being watched too closely, and Gabriel slid one arm around Sam's waist, moving to the rhythm, his hips gyrating. Sam moaned loudly, his arousal hidden by the flood of sounds and bodies that surrounded them.

"I want you," Gabriel whispered, the words almost disappearing in the ocean of sound, his hardness against Sam's. "I want you like I've never wanted another man. Not just tonight." His eyes were burning embers; a golden fire ready to flare wildly. Lust, desire, possessiveness. Gabriel wasn't joking.

At any other point, Sam would have been hilariously happy. Now the words only made him regret what he'd done, hiring Gabriel under false pretense. He needed to remember that Gabriel was acting. He had to be. Caught between deep arousal and deep regret, Sam distracted himself, floating with the throbbing rhythm, giving in, not to Gabriel, but to the music. To get a bit of revenge, he danced around Gabriel, flush against his back, leaving no doubt that Sam appreciated being wanted. With Gabriel leaning against his chest, Sam's large hand splayed over Gabriel's stomach, they danced, Sam's cock firmly sliding into the slight dip between Gabriel's cheeks.

Sam was dizzy. Gabriel's scent; the sensations that his strong, lean body evoked, hard muscles and the tight, round ass right there for Sam to touch, drove Sam to the limit of his patience. The music changed a slower tune, a deep bass, almost like a heartbeat. Gabriel reached back and buried his hand in Sam's hair, guiding their slow moves. Sam moaned. They could just as well have fucked here, the way Gabriel rubbed his ass over Sam's blood-filled cock.

"Enough," Sam groaned, knowing he was losing this part of the challenge that Gabriel seemed to have issued. "Gabriel, I... can't!" Sam groaned, trying to drown out the music.

Gabriel intertwined his fingers with Sam's, only to yank him around, his cheeks flushed and his lips wet. He looked no less aroused than before."When was the last time somebody fucked you all night?" he purred, backing Sam towards the door. "When was the last time someone told you how utterly gorgeous you are, watching you spread out under him, begging to be taken?"

Sam's brain refused to work. The thought of it, being naked with Gabriel over him, taking what he wanted, all night... Sam made a mewling sound, that was all he could manage. It would never happen, but he wanted it so badly. "I... never." No one had ever wanted Sam like that, never expressed such a lush, unashamed desire for him.

Maneuvering Sam towards the men's room, Gabriel pushed the door open. A guy was standing there, in front of the gilded mirror, doing his eyeliner.

"Out," Gabriel said. "My boy and I need a few minutes alone."

The other guy just laughed, seemingly deciding that his eyeliner was good enough as it was. "Have fun," he said and disappeared.

Gabriel didn't hesitate long enough for Sam to collect himself, or even to come up with the protest he knew he should find the backbone to deliver. Instead Sam was pushed up against the tiles so hard it made the wall give. Sam let out a groan, hissing as a shot of cold pain raced through his spine. Gabriel took no mercy. He grabbed Sam's wrists, pinning them to the wall, his strong fingers unrelenting. "When was the last time someone made you scream so loud that you that were afraid the neighbors would call the police?" His lips were brushing Sam's, his damp breath mixing with Sam's pained gasps. Gabriel pressed his thigh between Sam's legs, tilting his hips and rubbing himself against Sam's hardening cock."When was the last time someone gave you everything you wanted and then made you beg for more?" Gabriel purred, the tip of his tongue playing at the edge of Sam's mouth.

Refusing the kiss, Sam was turned around roughly as Gabriel pushed him into one of the large cubicles, slamming the door shut. "Answer me, Sam. When did anybody want you this much? When did any of your lovers want you as badly as I do? When did anybody want to bury himself in you and stay there until you were so worn out that you couldn't fuck again if your life depended on it?" Gabriel looked Sam over, his eyes glittering in the dim light. "Let me have you, Sam. All of you."

If Sam's brain had had the slightest enticement to work, he might have come up with an answer, but as it were, Gabriel's presence, his touches, the words whispered in that soft, alluring voice made Sam able to do exactly one thing: he gave in. He couldn't refuse. He was lost, done for, utterly, deeply in lust with Gabriel. "Do it," he breathed. "Gabriel... please! I want you so much." Throwing all caution to the wind, Sam finally let himself sink into the heaven of make believe. "Please?" 

That was all Gabriel needed. He got down on his knees, fumbling with Sam's zipper. Sam lost all patience and yanked it down, pushing the jeans and the boxers over his erection.

"Oh my fucking _God_. Thank you!" Gabriel groaned. "Oh my." He looked up at Sam, fumbling in his pocket for protection. "Now, there's hardware for you." He ripped open the small package, the scent of cherries spreading in the narrow cubicle as he rolled on the condom.

Sam hissed as Gabriel worked his cock, slick with the sweet-smelling lube, not even considering for more than half a second that Gabriel had planned this, carrying condoms with him.

"Love cherries," Gabriel said and slid his lips over Sam's cock, one hand firmly around Sam's balls.

Sam returned to the small cubicle of pretence he'd allowed himself to step into. Everything stood out clear. The rough tiles against his back. The heat around his cock. The surge of pleasure, electricity running from his toes along his spine, making him gasp for air. The scent of cherries and some fir-smelling detergent. Gabriel's fingertip sliding over his hole. Pleasure. There was so much pleasure. Sam moaned, his knees almost unable to keep him standing. His hand in Gabriel's hair. More suction, a tongue over the head of his dick. Teeth scraping. A tinge of pain. A gasp for the air that wasn't there. Gabriel's hand working its magic. The sound of a zipper and Gabriel's desperate groan vibrating on his skin, around his cock, when Gabriel started jerking himself off.

Then Sam slammed in deep, beyond caring, Gabriel taking it all. Gabriel's finger slid in, too, and Sam was lost. He came, trying to keep quiet but his violent orgasm made it impossible. He came hard, crying out, his moan echoing between the walls as he thrust into Gabriel's warm mouth. Gabriel kept on sucking him until he was spent, Sam only able to stand because he had Gabriel's shoulder to hold on to.

Gabriel made a satisfied groan and let Sam go. He got up from the floor, wiping his mouth, his pants open and his long, hard cock wet and ready. "Spread your legs a bit," Gabriel demanded, grabbing Sam's hip with one hand hard enough to make it hurt. "Wanna come between your legs, baby." He leaned in, nibbling at Sam's earlobe. "Want you to go out there with my come all over you. Want you to smell of sex. Of _me_ "

"God, you're dirty," Sam hissed, still trying to breathe properly. Sam liked it, it was like Gabriel wanted to paint the proof of ownership all over him. Sam pulled off the condom and pushed his pants further down, leaving enough room for Gabriel to slide his long cock in between Sam's legs. Gabriel's breath hitched as Sam pressed his thighs together, tilting his hips invitingly. "C'mon," he encouraged. "Let me feel you." Sam reached between them, holding on to his own sensitized dick and balls. "Gabriel, now, please," Sam urged, "want it, want to go home, smelling like _yours_." Sam had all but forgotten that this wasn't real, none of it was.

Thrusting roughly between Sam's legs, Gabriel held on to Sam, one hand around his waist, one placed firmly on his hip. Gabriel closed his eyes, his mouth half open as he slid in deep. Groaning as if in pain, he leaned against Sam's shoulder, his brow sweaty as he worked himself to completion, spilling into the damp heat between Sam's thighs, his moans hot and abrupt on Sam's neck.

With semen running down his legs, Sam caressed Gabriel's cheek, this time gently, no urgency at all, waiting for Gabriel to come down. Gabriel finally looked up, an expression of wonderment and tenderness in his eyes. "Sammy," was all he said and it was enough. It was as if his shaky voice, the velvet sound wrapped itself around Sam's heart, soft and strong, tying him up in the worst possible way.

Right there and then, Sam realized that he had fallen in love.

They managed to clean up and dress; a true miracle that nobody disturbed them. Sam couldn't stop himself from kissing Gabriel, and Gabriel certainly didn't complain. Sam gave up telling himself that he couldn't continue taking what Gabriel offered, that he had to let Gabriel go and forget about him. Sam knew that Gabriel did little he wasn't paid to do. Somehow it became increasingly difficult to remember, as if Gabriel's kisses, strangely tender and soft now, made Sam's reluctance evaporate, erased by warm lips and a slick tongue.

"We should... get out," Sam gasped, breathless from kisses. "Can't stay here." He had no idea where they ought to go; he couldn't take Gabriel home. It would be like bringing home a stray dog, the kind that one picks up and never really manage to hand in to the nearest animal rescue. Except this stray certainly belonged elsewhere. Gabriel would never belong Sam.

For once, Gabriel had no witty retort. "All right." No suggestions, no confident comeback, like he was leaving it up to Sam to decide. He turned on the tap and splashed his face with cold water, like he needed to cool down.

"More drinks?"

Gabriel nodded eagerly, water dripping. "Yeah. Definitely."

Sam opened the door to the corridor, Gabriel picking up a handful of paper towels, wiping his face. He grinned, his usual cocky self returning. " _Virgin's Answer_ for me. No banana on the side, though."

The door closed behind Sam with a soft woosh. Virgin's Answer? Why not? Wondering which ingredients went into such a cocktail, Sam didn't watch where he was going, not until he walked into something solid. Something solid and familiar.

"Sam! I thought I'd find you here. Still slumming with the little insect you picked up last time you were here? Saw him earlier. Wonder where he stole the clothes, didn't think that shelters dealt in designer wear. He's really sub-standard, even for you." Brady's prissy expression was even more pronounced than usual.

Great. Just what Sam needed for a perfect evening. "I really don't want to discuss with you what I do in my spare time and with whom. I can't possibly say how much it isn't your business." Sam frowned, anger rising. How dared Brady judge Gabriel? So what if he wasn't rich? He had everything Brady didn't, except for money. "You had your chance and you blew it big time. Leave me alone." Sam looked over his shoulder. He needed to get away from Brady before Gabriel joined him. There would be too many questions.

"Oh, Sam, _please_." In his Hugo Boss suit and with the tie perfectly in place, Brady looked exactly as comfortable as a fish on land. Less gasping, though. Gay bars weren't Brady's scene. "You don't want to taint yourself further with... _that_. I could offer you so much-" Brady was interrupted as the door to the men's room opened.

"What's it to you, hotshot? Not bothering my man, are you?" Gabriel slid up behind Sam. He placed his arm tightly around Sam's waist. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "No, he's just leaving."

"Excuse me," Brady drawled. "I was talking to Sam. I could do without your interference in our affairs." He waved his hand as if he could make Gabriel go away, just like that. "You don't have a bridge to sleep under? I'm sure someone like you must have a lovely bridge. Now go away. My boyfriend isn't used to dealing with unemployed losers."

In an instant Gabriel moved, his hand around Brady's throat as he slammed Brady hard against the wall. "Don't you ever, _ever_ presume to know what I am." His eyes were narrow, angry slits, and if looks could kill, Brady would have been very, very dead. "And don't ever think that you can have Sam. Leave him alone. He doesn't want you."

Sam took a deep breath. "Let him go, Gabe. He's not worth it." He put his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Let go. For me, please?"

The anger seemed to leave Gabriel and Sam let out a relieved sigh. Gabriel didn't let go of Brady immediately, it took a few seconds before Gabriel loosened the grip enough for Brady to escape. "All right. But if he bothers you again, I won't hold back. Somebody should have warned him that stalking isn't a legal pastime, not even for stuck-up assholes in pathetically ill-fitting off-the-peg suits."

"Let's go. I-" Sam wanted out, now. He couldn't stay; he had no intention of apologizing to Brady anyway, and he'd much prefer that any explanations that Gabriel might demand from him were made without Brady being present. There was too much that Sam had to figure out — not least how to admit his own lies and betrayal to the man he'd fallen in love with. The man, mind, who was only here because he was doing his job.

And worse was it that Brady fit so perfectly into the idea of this abusive boyfriend. It made Sam sad. Brady was an ass, but this had gone beyond standard asshattery.

And Gabriel had just stepped up, defending his honor, standing against Brady — the man that Gabriel thought to be the one who was paying his salary at the Angel Trap. Gabriel risked so much, being so possessive, stepping in to protect Sam from his alleged abusive, stalkerish boyfriend. This was so much more than the underhanded threat that Gabriel had left in his Angel Trap report.

Obviously Brady had no idea who Gabriel was, but Gabriel didn't know that — he surely believed that Brady was Garth Fitzgerald, the man who had hired him. Gabriel willingly risked his job and his salary, threatening to punch his employer in the face — for Sam's sake and honor.

God, what a mess!

Gabriel took a step back, reaching for Sam's hand. "Yeah, seems like they need pest control to get rid of the vermin before the place becomes acceptable again. Let's ride, kiddo."

Sam didn't care to look at Brady as they passed him on their way out, he merely walked away, his hand in Gabriel's.

Brady took it personal, of course. "What's he got that I don't?" he shouted through the noise and the music, Sam almost throwing up at the sound of the oh-so-recognizably-annoyed, self-satisfied voice.

Sam stopped and turned, looking up and down Brady with all the contempt he could muster. " _Me_ ," he said and knew it was the truth. He was Gabriel's. Now he just needed to find a way to make Gabriel his. And that particular exercise could turn out being much more difficult that he liked to believe. When Sam canceled the service tomorrow, Gabriel probably wouldn't see him again. Sam truly had ruined things for himself.

Gabriel stopped in front of the bar. "I need to pick up my tab," Gabriel said, no further explanation. "Back in a second."

Sam nodded, remaining where Gabriel had left him. More than anything he wanted to go home and sort out his thoughts. He watched as Gabriel spoke with one of the guys manning the bar, the handsome one who'd offered Sam a drink. He felt a sting of jealousy. Gabriel seemed to explain something to the bartender, pointing at someone in the crowd. Sam followed their line of sight. Brady. Sam raised his eyebrows. What was Gabriel doing? Sam was too confused to figure anything out right now. And chances were that he'd never see Gabriel again, so it didn't really matter.

All that mattered was the burning ball of tension and sadness and need and this new all-encompassing feeling that had tangled itself up inside him.

Gabriel returned. "Sammy?" There was a slight wrinkle between his eyebrows, as if he saw right through Sam and into his heart. Sam shook his head. Gabriel didn't say anything, just led Sam outside. They walked away from Wilde's silent, both, until they were far enough from it that the noise had died down.

"So," Gabriel said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interfered. Are you angry with me? I couldn't merely stand there and let that asshole offend you. He's the guy, right, the one you've been talking about? The stalker? Your ex. I've-" Gabriel closed his mouth. "I'm babbling."

Sam let out a sound that might have been a sigh or a laughter. He wasn't sure which. "You are."

"I'm nervous, okay? It sucks." He glanced up at Sam. His lips curled; he looked dissatisfied. "I usually don't get nervous."

Sam hadn't seen Gabriel like that before, uncomfortably insecure and without the switchblade sarcasm. "Because of-" Sam stopped himself the moment before he said Brady's name aloud. "Garth."

Gabriel understood. "No, arrogant elite wannabes, those I can manage. You, on the other hand..." Gabriel stopped and pulled Sam closer. "You matter. It makes me jittery."

Gabriel smelled of sex and of fresh sweat and some cologne that Sam liked but didn't remember the name of. He buried his nose in Gabriel's hair, a hand around his nape. "Don't be," Sam murmured, the words almost inaudible. "What happened?" Sam asked as if it would solve his own confusion. "Us."

"We had sex. And I felt an intense urge to beat up the moron you used to be with."

Yeah, that was one way to put it. Simple and rough and without anything to lessen the grim reality of it.

They had sex.

And Sam lost his heart. Love at second sight.

Sam's insecurity and anxiety got the better of him. He had been so worried that he'd never get Gabriel, and now it turned out that all that Gabriel wanted was sex? The slightly insensitive remark made Sam feel so sad. It was as if the casual indifference almost made him throw up as his throat constricted painfully. Or maybe he had simply dropped his heart on the floor where somebody could step on it and crush it? There was so much he wanted to say. There were so many lies that he could tell, so many truths that needed out. But this, this casual, callous summary of the moment when Sam _knew_ he'd fallen for Gabriel, that he couldn't handle.

"You said," Sam began, not sure how to go on. "You said that I was your man."

"M-hm," Gabriel agreed, as if it meant little. "Yeah. I did."

Sam could have asked Gabriel what he meant, he could, but he wasn't sure he'd like the answer. Fuckbuddies? A bit of fun for the night? No, he couldn't handle that now. Gently he entangled himself from Gabriel's embrace, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. "I need to go home. I'm sorry, Gabriel. But... right now I can't handle this." Looking around for a cab, Sam waved at one that passed them. It stopped. "I really have to go." Sam's voice broke slightly, perhaps revealing too much. He turned, ignoring Gabriel's hurt expression. "Goodbye."

"Wait, Sam!" Gabriel didn't sound as commanding and confident now. Sam decided to ignore it. He slid into the taxi. "Just go," he told the driver. It hurt to drive away from Gabriel, but he had to. It was too much. It was all too much, and Sam had to take some time, mulling things over. He had to accept that Gabriel might be lost to him and the break should probably happen sooner rather than later. The sooner Sam stopped it, the sooner he would stop hurting.

When the doorbell rang, Sam hadn't slept much. He'd tossed and turned, trying to make sense of everything. One thing he knew for sure: he'd fallen for Gabriel. He'd fallen hard and fast, exactly as he was supposed to fall. Sam woke up to the pending heartbreak looming over his life. It was a question of hours before he had to deal with the mess he'd made. He'd have liked to sleep a bit longer, postponing the inevitable call to the Angel Trap, but the insistent ringing had now been exchanged with a similarly insistent banging on his front door. Picking up a hoodie, pulling it over his head, Sam reached the door.

"Flowers." A guy from the florist around the corner held out a gigantic display of various plants. The bouquet was decidedly distasteful. "For... Winchester. Sam Winchester."

"Oh." Sam took the bouquet. "Er. Thanks. Wait. He turned around, looking for his wallet."

"There's another." The florist guy produced a long, narrow box. "Exciting weekend?" he asked, grinning.

"Thanks." Sam handed the man a few dollars. He closed the door, entirely without any wish to share his personal life with a random delivery guy. Carrying the flowers into the kitchen, Sam looked at the opulent arrangement. He found a card.

_I know you'll forgive me. Why look for dirt when you can have me?_

It was signed _Brady_ in a handwriting that wasn't his. Sam laughed bitterly. Typical Brady. Even the short message was about him. _I, me, Brady_. He hadn't even bothered to write the card himself. Sam opened the cabinet under the sink and shoved the bouquet into the garbage. He ripped the card into little pieces and disposed of them. "No thanks," Sam said and shut the door. He glared at the box. He repressed the urge to let it follow the other bouquet. Brady certainly was persistent.

Sam opened the box. On a layer of white silk lay one perfect rose. Okay, that was definitely not Brady's style. Looking for a card, Sam found one slid under the fabric in the corner. He looked at it once, then once more. It was a postcard, an old one, showing a picture of what Sam recognized as the bridge across Kaw River. "What the-" he said and turned the card.

_When it feels right, love burns. I don't know what I did, but forgive me for it._

_I'm here, on my knees, begging you. Must see you again._

_Must._

_G._

The letters on the odd old card were written in ink; a fluent, secure writing. Sam melted a little. It wasn't the card from a man who merely did this for money. Or maybe it was just how Gabriel was. Unpredictable. Sam sat down, staring at the card and the rose. Either the Oscar went to Gabriel next year, or he was just as taken as Sam. If only Sam knew which. Sam groaned. He had only himself to thank for the situation he was in. And Garth. The real Garth, not the imaginary one. It had been Garth's idea. But Sam could hardly blame Garth for his own curiosity: he should have stayed out of Cas and Dean's business to begin with. Or done the sensible thing and called Dean and bloody asked him what was going on.

What Sam needed to do this morning was to try and stop the impending doom. It was easy enough. Sam had to cancel the Angel Trap deal, and when that was done, he had to talk to Gabriel. He needed to know whether Gabriel's callousness was real. He needed to clear up the misunderstandings between them. He had to lay out _everything_. If there was the slightest chance that he could have Gabriel for real, to build a relationship with him, the slate had to be wiped clean: no lies, no subterfuge, no misunderstandings. It was a chance to take; Gabriel had every right to be angry with him. Yeah, it sounded easy enough. Theoretically.

Again Sam was hit by the thought that made him more nervous and sad than anything: Maybe Gabriel had just been acting and wasn't interested in anything but the Angel Trap salary he so clearly needed.

On the bottom line there was so much that Sam could lose, only he couldn't win anything by continuing his lies. He couldn't win anything by not putting everything at stake. He could only lose.

Falling in love was serious business, Sam decided. What he had once felt for Brady had nothing, _nothing_ , to do with what he felt for Gabriel. He hadn't for a second known what love was, had never felt this desperate need for another man. He had known Brady since college, Gabriel for two weeks, and the anemic attraction he'd felt for Brady was lukewarm and bland in comparison. Oh, Gabriel was right: when it felt right, love burned.

Holding on to Gabriel's silly card with what could only be seen as either a grand declaration of love or as a lie that would break Sam's heart into shards so small that it would never again be whole, Sam got up, looking for his work phone.

Reluctantly he called the Angel Trap. Meg Masters was answering.

"Nothing to report," she said as if it was a bad thing. "Our agent left a message that he regrets that there is nothing we can do for you, sir, that we have not already done. We will happily refer you to another company, if you want, but as I said, we are not able to help you any further."

Sam had nothing to say to that. His engagement with the Angel Trap was over, and it was abundantly clear that Gabriel was on his side against both the imaginary and the real Brady since he had canceled further work, leaving nothing to report. But whether it mattered when Sam confessed? If someone had lied to Sam and betrayed him like he had betrayed Gabriel, he'd have been angry and not at all inclined to start a relationship with the liar.

It was the risk Sam needed to take. Gabriel certainly didn't take shit from anyone, and he'd probably not make an exception when it came to Sam. Sam realized that maybe that was why it felt so right this time, falling in love. It was beyond his control. He was burning up, caught in this pyre of emotions and need.

He grabbed his other phone. He was going to put out fire with gasoline.

 _Yes. I need a little time, but yes. I want to see you again,_ he texted.

He pressed 'send', knowing that for the first time in his life he truly had put his heart out there. It was just a question of when Gabriel would take aim and fire at it.

Gabriel had sensed that Sam wanted distance and time, no doubt, for the reply took a while.

_Thank God. You'd perish without me. You do realize that your heirs would never get your deposit back if you die in your apartment, right? Allow me to charge in and save you from such an unworthy demise for the sake of your unsuspecting family._

Sam smiled as he read the text. Gabriel was incredible, a whole different kind of incredible than Brady. He could feel warmth coiling in his stomach, embers taking on, the fire of arousal flaring again. To think that he'd once found Brady attractive. The small package of big crazy and even larger passion that was Gabriel should be nothing compared to Brady. Gifted Brady, wealthy Brady, handsome, tall Brady.

 _Soon. A few days,_ Sam texted back, buying himself more hours, more days to consider the course of action. 

But Gabriel... "Oh, Gabriel," Sam sighed. He really didn't know how to approach their next encounter. All he knew with a deep certainty was that he was in love with Gabriel. It was a turning point in his life, a crossroads. One way led to perdition, the other to heaven. Sam was just so afraid that he had fucked things up already; there was no way he could keep from Gabriel the planning and plotting that had led them to meet in the first place.

It was physical, the anxiety, and it made Sam feel nauseous. He knew only too well that his stupid scheme might be the downfall of a relationship that hadn't even started. He didn't even know whether Gabriel wanted him the way he wanted Gabriel: all of him, the full treat; lock, stock and barrel, until death did them part. Sam knew he'd be devastated, crushed, if — when — Gabriel turned him down. And unfortunately the latter option was a very real one and Sam had no one to blame for that but himself.

There was only one solution: he had to convince Gabriel that he wasn't this lying, scheming, betraying bastard, but an ordinary guy falling in love with someone who was very likely to be the love of his life.

It was difficult for Sam to work. Half the time his mind was filled with thoughts of Gabriel, of his kisses, the quick and hot encounter in Wilde's, of the obvious desire that Gabriel had for him, work or no work, pay or no pay. Sam felt as if he was aroused most of the time. When he wasn't aroused, he was worrying about whether Gabriel wanted him or not; whether he'd be forgiven for what he'd done.

Despite his waning ability to concentrate on anything that wasn't spelled G-a-b-r-i-e-l, Sam worked hard, thus escaping the nervousness and the inevitable meeting and the following explanations and apologies. At times Sam resurfaced, his eyes straying from the screen to the withering rose which he moved with him when he relocated from kitchen to living room to bedroom. It was a small piece of Gabriel that was all his.

At times, once or twice a day, a text arrived, accompanied by the few lines of _Everybody Loves Me_ that Sam had chosen for Gabriel's texts alerts.

_Miss you, baby. Wanna know what I'd like to do to you?_

Sam's brain went down the drain for the umpteenth time that day.

 _NO!_ , Sam replied, panic and arousal moving in on him. _And behave!_

_Woot? I'm behaving. Your mind, Sammy, is a dirty, dirty place and I'm as innocent as they come. You wanna come? To meet me?_

Sam put down the phone. Gabriel was incorrigible, and their texts were getting increasingly clogged with veiled innuendos. He couldn't put it up much longer. He both wanted and didn't want to get it over with. It had been a week since he'd seen Gabriel and the need for him, for his touch, was wearing Sam down. If only he could sit with him in a bar or café, discussing computer science or philosophy or the finer details in the Matrix, Sam would be happy. It wasn't just sex; he wanted all of Gabriel.

Defeat came in the shape of a phone call, not that phone calls usually had shapes. The phone vibrated, turning and swirling on the table, dancing to the tune that was Gabriel's. Sam got it in the middle of _'Cause you don't have to make a sound_.

"You can't do this to me," Sam groaned. "Isn't it enough with the texts?"

"Time and day, Sam-o. Now." Gabriel had clearly decided to be ruthless. "I promised to come save you, remember? Although it has been a while, so you might have forgotten." Gabriel's last words had a tinge of bitterness to them that Sam somehow recognized. He'd heard it all too often in his own voice when he, sad and tired of Brady's refusals, called to beg for some time with his boyfriend. Never again did Sam want to hear Gabriel sounding like that.

Sam was _so_ not turning into Brady.

"Monday. Dinner?" He took a deep breath. "Here."

Gabriel laughed. God, it was so good to hear his voice that Sam could cry. He was screwed, so screwed.

"That wasn't so difficult, Sammy, was it?"

Yes it was. "No." There was so much to say, so many things Sam wanted to say. _I'm in love with you_. _Forgive me._ _Don't ever leave me._ "We need to talk, Gabriel. But... not on the phone."

"You're breaking up with me before I even managed to ask you to marry me?"

"Oh, Gabriel!" Sam laughed, finally more relaxed. Maybe Gabriel would understand how something that once looked like a good idea ended up going pear-shaped. "As I said, we need to talk. But I'm definitely not breaking up with you." He softened. "I miss you like crazy. It's so bad that I think I miss _your_ crazy."

Laughter seemed to bubble in the surface of Gabriel's reply. "Can't wait to see you, Samsquatch. I know we need to talk, but I..." Gabriel sighed. "I'm mad about you, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said, feeling happiness pool in his chest. "I'm very, very okay with that."

Thus having cleared up things with Gabriel, at least partly, Sam was able to get shit done a bit faster. Sorely needed; his infatuation with his boyfriend-to-be had been a serious distraction. He even managed to dig out the address for Dean and Castiel's hotel, ordering them a present and flowers that could be delivered on their wedding day. Sam still wished he could just drop his clients and go to Portugal, but it wasn't an option. Not if he wanted to keep his reputation as a reliable computer engineer and programmer.

Saturday passed, and on Sunday morning, far too early in Sam's opinion, but late enough in Portugal, he called Dean to congratulate. The wedding had gone according to plan (Cas said yes) and they were on their way to take lunch on a fancy restaurant. _Mr and Mr Winchester._ Sam said, then wished them a great honeymoon and disconnected. He didn't mention the Angel Trap or the suspicion that had made him act like a fool, of course he didn't. Right, so he was a stupid, confused, meddling fool, besotted by a man he'd known for three weeks, but he was still in possession of enough faculties not to ruin his beloved brother's honeymoon.

A few seconds after he'd put down the phone a pic of the happy couple popped up in his inbox. They looked madly in love, in fact so madly in love that Sam's envy flared bright and hot. He wanted to have that. He really, really wanted to have that.

With Gabriel.

He'd known Gabriel for such a short time, and yet he was infatuated, in love, enchanted. He wanted Gabriel so badly that it hurt. If there was the slightest chance that he could drag Gabriel to Portugal and marry him, Sam wouldn't think twice before he said yes. Gabriel could have him any which way he wanted, as long as they could have _forever_ together.

As for Cas and Dean... Sam still didn't understand what was going on. They were so happy, so in love. If one of them had taken a wrong step... maybe Dean had been drunk or something... It could be mended, Sam was certain. Too much love to lay to waste. But Sam had his priorities set now. He'd come clean with Gabriel, and then talk to Dean and Cas, getting rid of what had weighed him down for weeks since he'd found the Angel Trap website.

And then he would whip his life back in shape.

Monday arrived, most of the day disappearing as Sam threw himself into doing as much work as possible, making time and room for the man of his dreams. Occasionally he paused, trying not to let his thought linger. Gabriel... It was all he could think of. A few more hours and he'd have his hands on Gabriel again, kissing him. More, perhaps. Hopefully. The thought about Gabriel naked made Sam groan. The small taste he'd had only made Sam want for more. He closed his eyes, imagining his own large hands on Gabriel's chest, moving down, one hand cupping-

Sam got a grip. He couldn't indulge, not now. He could stand it a few more hours, he could! He took a gulp of the cold coffee he had standing next to him on the kitchen table and forced himself to consider the proper syntax for the bit of programming he was trying to finish. It was all about getting the ending right.

Around four Sam reminded himself that he'd actually invited Gabriel to dinner. Luckily the fridge held enough interesting food stuff for Sam to prepare a more than decent salad. Sun-dried tomatoes, artichokes and some reasonably fresh basil and Mozzarella. He found two large steaks in the freezer. He whipped up a marinade of olive oil, lemon and basil. He cut up few large potatoes, readying them for the oven. Another look in the freezer reassured him that he had vanilla B&J and some frozen raspberries for a _coulis_ to go with the ice cream. They'd made a nice dessert. He looked over the results of his effort and rummaged around in one of the cabinets for a nice bottle of red. All set.

Sam put away the laptop and found a tablecloth to cover up the ugly piece of furniture. He set the table, found a few candle holders and some candles, too. Christ, he was turning into a bloody romantic! He laughed at the thought; Gabriel would probably tease him, but he didn't care.

Sam showered, taking care not to take too much care as he picked out something to wear. He needed to feel comfortable, so he dressed in his favorite jeans and a nice white shirt, casually rolled-up sleeves. He didn't want to dress up. At quarter to six, he was ready. He took one of his laptops with him into the couch, randomly poking around on the web. He avoided the Angel Trap entirely.

At six sharp the doorbell rang. Sam got up, his heart beating like he'd just ran a Marathon. He could do this! He straightened up, smoothing down his shirt, taking a few deep breaths before he went to open.

"Gabriel," Sam greeted his guest softly, unable to keep the longing out of this voice. Gabriel looked stunning, tight jeans and a shirt that matched his amber eyes. "Come in."

Gabriel was hardly inside before he had Sam up against the wall. Sam gasped loudly, his body shivering from need. Gabriel had his hands in Sam's hair, pulling hard enough to make it hurt, dragging him down for a kiss. Sam moaned, the sudden attack had him hard and ready instantly. Gabriel kissed as if he wanted devour to Sam, gobble him up in a frenzy of desire. Sam was very all right with that and with the quick development from greetings to making out. Steel-hard fingers pressed against his neck, preventing the kiss from stopping. Gabriel's cheekbone was sharp bow under Sam's thumb as he reciprocated, securing Gabriel's continued participation. The angle between Gabriel's thigh and hip fit snugly between Sam's legs, Gabriel pushing Sam up harder, more ruthlessly, against the wall. Their tongues met and parted, silken slides of wet and soft, of hard and demanding. They shared breath and sighs, Sam wanting everything he could have before it was too late.

Finally having Sam kissed dizzy and weak, Gabriel let go, looking up at Sam with glazed-over eyes, yet still possessive and bossy. "You let me wait for more than a week, Sam. A week!" Glittering from anger and arousal, Gabriel's eyes shone golden. "Ten. Bloody. Days!"

"I know," Sam panted, "I've been so stupid. I was... afraid."

"No speaking. Not until we're both sated and done," Gabriel demanded with such fervor that Sam decided not to protest. Yeah, he'd like that. Since this could be the last time he'd see Gabriel, he would take what he could get — in abundance. He'd leave the unpleasant truths for later. For now, he was definitely willing to go where Gabriel wanted them to go.

Which, incidentally, was into Sam's bedroom.

"I want you. Now. In bed," Gabriel murmured, his lips vibrating against Sam's neck. The words tingled and made Sam's cock throb, wet and hard in his pants already, all thoughts of food and dinners and anything but Gabriel naked vaporizing quickly.

Gabriel moved a few inches, enough to look up into Sam's eyes. Sam could melt from the way Gabriel looked at him, all burning and needy.

"Yeah," Sam croaked, "please."

"I want you under me," Gabriel whispered softly, the silken sound of his words a contrast to the content. "I want to take you, make you come so hard you scream."

"Uhm," was all Sam managed as Gabriel's hand found its way to his cock, pressing against it.

"I want this in me when I ride you so hard and fast that you can't do anything but beg me for more."

" _Fuck_ ," Sam moaned, leaning against the wall, sure he'd fall if he didn't.

"Yes," Gabriel said. "Where?"

Trying to get a grip of himself, Sam led the way to the bedroom.

"Mm, the Spartans had such good ideas, what with the older men and young male lovers. Didn't know that they did bedroom decor as well," he said, looking at Sam's empty and decidedly spartan bedroom as they stepped inside. Gabriel's arms as a warm, reassuring ring around Sam's waist. "The computer manuals on the floor is a nice touch. The bed looks good, though. We better test it right away!"

"The ex. He took everything else." Sam looked at his bed and the white empty walls. A few candles on the bedside table was not enough to make it remotely cosy. White and empty never was.

"And in exchange for furniture he lost you. He's really an idiot. My gain, though." Gabriel tilted his head back, looking up at Sam. "Would you believe me if I tell you how nervous I am?"

"Not really. But-" Sam shut himself up. "I'm probably... It's just that I want you so much that I can hardly breathe."

"You get my point." Gabriel let out a shaky laughter. "Let's fuck."

"You are such a romantic. I melt," Sam snorted, somehow getting now that Gabriel's crudeness wasn't to be taken too seriously. "And yeah. Let's."

Pulling at Sam's shirt, Gabriel started towards the bed. "Undress," he demanded, his usual confidence clearly returning. "For me. Make a show of it. Slowly." Gabriel sent Sam a look so fiery that his clothes could have combusted from it. Sam found it clever to take off his clothes before Gabriel did something unfortunate to them. Gabriel sat down on the bedside. He expected a show, and Sam wasn't adverse to give him one. He wasn't self-conscious when it came to his body, and if Gabriel wanted an eyeful, Sam would delight in giving him one.

Leaning back on his elbows, Gabriel certainly relished what he saw as Sam unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide down his arms, letting it fall to the floor.

"There is a God," Gabriel moaned as he appreciated Sam's half-naked body. "Thank you." He shifted, a hand on his cock, pressure of his own clothes obviously too much.

Sam smiled. Stripping had a nice effect on Gabriel, so he hurried to open his pants, pushing them down a bit, letting them hang on his hips as he rubbed himself through his boxer briefs. "This is what you want?" Sam purred, moving his hand upwards, over his abs, then down into the boxers. "Tell me."

"Fuck, yes." Gabriel sat up. "All of it. You. Your cock in me. My tongue on your dick. My hands on your body, in you, all over you. I want you to be fucking _mine_ , every last gorgeous inch of you," Gabriel groaned, reaching out for Sam.

Sam took a step back. "Oh, no. Not yet. The show isn't over."

"Oh, really?" Gabriel growled. "Now, that's where you're wrong." He got up, pulling the t-shirt he was wearing over his head, dumping it on the floor.

Gabriel might be short, but Sam certainly appreciated the nice build of his chest, the strong arms. "Oh," Sam managed, wanting very much to explore the line of those biceps.

"Oh, yes." Gabriel unbuttoned his jeans, managing at the same time to discard his shoes. "This is not a one-man show, handsome. Not any more." Prowling, he stepped up to Sam. "Are you going to take those off, or do you need me to do it for you?" he breathed, pulling at Sam's jeans. His damp breath ghosted over Sam's chest as Gabriel leaned in and licked his nipple.

"Uhn," Sam moaned.

"Too late, baby," Gabriel whispered and pulled Sam around so fast, throwing him down on the bed, that Sam didn't realize what had happened before he was on his back, Gabriel straddling him.

"Let's get naked," Gabriel grinned, tearing at Sam's remaining clothes. "Because I want your cock in me right now."

Clothes finally discarded next to the bed, Gabriel on top of him, Sam fell back into the bed. This clearly was Gabriel's party, and Sam could do little but to let Gabriel have what he wanted. Sam put his hands on Gabriel's thighs; they were strong like the rest of him, hardened muscles flexing under Sam's fingers. "All yours," Sam moaned, giving his permission to whatever Gabriel wanted to do to him. "Ride me, fuck me... anything!" He reached for Gabriel's cock, wet at the tip, pulsing with need. Sam closed his hand around it, jerking it slowly, watching Gabriel closely as he let Sam pleasure him. Sam liked it, liked how Gabriel's throat stretched as he tilted his head back. He liked how Gabriel's thighs tightened around his hips. He liked how Gabriel's narrow little ass moved over his cock, making the idea of shoving it into Gabriel deep and fast the best idea in the world.

Gabriel thought so too. "Lube?"

Sam reached for the drawer in the bedside table, fumbling for condoms and the brand new bottle he'd bought. "Help."

Gabriel took mercy and grabbed both. "Fingers." There were things to be said about brevity, and currently they were all good. Sam held out his hand as Gabriel poured oil over them, half of it ending in the bed. Gabriel's hand was shaking.

"Need you so badly," Gabriel explained, his well hidden nervousness surfacing again. "Sammy... oh."

Wanting to elicit more delicious moans, Sam didn't hesitate. Rubbing his fingers over Gabriel's hole, he pressed two inside, exactly as impatient as Gabriel seemed to be. Gabriel made the most delicious sound as Sam slid in, the tight channel hot and slick around his fingers.

"Can't wait for to have your cock in me," moaned Gabriel, undulating his hips, trying to get more. "Hurry, Sammy. Want to have you. "

Sam thrust in deeper, relentlessly hard. Gabriel cried out, his nails raking down Sam's chest.

And then the phone rang. And rang.

"Ignore it," Sam suggested. He didn't care who was calling, he was not going to do any talking that was anything but _I wanna fuck you_ and _I'll give it to you hard_.

"Shit," Gabriel groaned. The phone kept ringing. "Make it go away."

Sam pawed at his jeans, trying to get to the phone. Before he managed, it stopped. "Great." Sam chuckled. "Sorry."

The phone started again.

"Unless somebody died or a war has started, I don't wanna know." Gabriel sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to Sam's shoulder. "Get it."

Sam got the phone, fiddling with it to make it stop ringing. He stared at the name popping up. Brady. "Fuck!"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"Ex."

"Gimme!" Gabriel took the phone before Sam could react. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_! Luckily Gabriel didn't look at the screen and the name.

"Oh, Sam, yes!" Gabriel moaned into the phone, almost before he answered it. "God, your cock is so big. Fuck me... deeper, oh, oh, oh! Sammy! I'm coming... yeah! Fuck me, big boy! More!" Gabriel let out some more loud moans as Sam stared up at him, flabbergasted and to say it mildly, embarrassed. He was paralyzed, unable to do anything but lie there and listen. 

"Fuck," Gabriel continued, sounding as if he was in the middle of the orgasm of his life, " I'm so sore, it's the fifth time you fuck me! You're insatiable! Didn't you get anything before me, stud, or is it just that I turn you on so much? Shit, Sam, I never had better."

Sam couldn't. He couldn't. He sat up, his stomach clenching from holding in the suppressed laughter that threatened to overtake any control that Sam had on himself. "Stop," he mouthed, "please, stop."

Gabriel pulled the phone away from his mouth, looking at the blank screen. "Oh, I think he left, your former. Wonder why. Did you want to speak to him? Sorry." He smirked and shut down the phone, preventing any further calls. "Talk about a cockblocking attempt. What a loser." Gabriel looked down. "But it worked. Not what it once were," he said, indicating his flaccid dick. "He really is incredibly off-putting."

Sam sort of shared the thought. His erection was... not an erection any longer. "I'm really sorry. It's- we..."

"It went a bit fast."

"Yeah." Not that Sam was complaining. "I'm not complaining." Then a wide smile spread on his face. Gabriel's insolence was beyond anything that Sam had ever experienced and he loved it."If you wanted him to feel inferior, you did a good job. He was never much for... penetration."

"You're telling me he didn't give it to you? Or the other way around?" Gabriel looked surprised.

Sam sighed. It had been one of the things that made him feel somewhat inferior in his relationship with Brady. Sam knew he looked nice, but Brady hadn't appreciated it much. Perhaps he simply hadn't found Sam attractive at all. "Neither. He found it 'unsavory'. It's okay, we can't all like the same things, but the way he said it... as if I wasn't worthy." Sam could feel the shame that Brady had made him feel for _wanting_ well up inside him. "As if-"

Sam was cut short by Gabriel's hand over his mouth. "He really, really didn't cherish the good things in life. And he will never get the chance again. He can't have you." Gabriel removed his hand and moved forward a bit, his chest against Sam's. He sought out Sam's lips. Gabriel's mouth was warm and wet and delightful and so was the kiss. Sam let out a happy sigh as Gabriel tongue-fucked his mouth, hard and sleazy and wild, pressing Sam into the mattress. Sam was breathless. His cock was hard again, definitely getting back to his former state of arousal. God, he was so in love with Gabriel!

Moaning, Gabriel pulled back, fingers trailing down Sam's chest, to his hip, over his hardening cock. "Don't let this go to waste, baby," Gabriel purred. "Don't let him ruin it. Wanna get hard for you because there is nothing in this universe I want more than to fuck you or get fucked by you. So tell me what you like. What you want." Gabriel grabbed his own cock, rubbing it slowly. "Tell me how you'd like to be fucked, Sammy."

"I, er-" Of course Sam knew what he wanted, and that would be Gabriel. But it had been so long since anybody had cared about what Sam wanted in bed that he'd almost forgotten that his desires mattered. It had — as usual — been about Brady and what Brady wanted and what Brady's prissy little ass could handle. "I want to fuck you so hard you split," Sam said, suddenly aroused again. "I want to fuck you until you scream. I want to be fucked by you or ridden hard while you hold me down and take what you need. Anything that makes me feel wanted."

Gabriel grabbed Sam's hands, pulling his arms up, doing exactly what Sam had asked for. Gabriel's grip was tight. "I'll hold you and fuck you and make you scream, for I want you, and I want you right now," Gabriel said in between kisses. "Dammit, Sammy, you're so hot!" Gabriel rubbed his ass against Sam's cock. His cleft was slick and wet, oil running down Gabriel's thighs. There was a rustle of sheets as Gabriel searched for the condoms he'd thrown there earlier. He let go of Sam. "Lie still. Don't move, or I'll let you wait until it pleases me to play with you again."

Hardly breathing, Sam didn't bat an eyelash. His patience was gone, and it didn't make him inclined to wait for anything that Gabriel offered. "You're evil," Sam moaned, staying entirely still, waiting for Gabriel to get on with it.

"Yeah, and you love it."

Sam found no reason to deny that fact.

Gabriel grabbed Sam's cock, rolling the condom on for him. He twitched in Gabriel's hand, eager to get going. Gabriel let out a throaty laughter and got up on his knees, straddling Sam, still. He hovered over Sam for a moment, reaching for his wrists. It made Sam moan. He liked being in Gabriel's power, under him, all his to take. He wriggled a bit, testing the strength of Gabriel's hold.

"Oh no, kiddo, too late," Gabriel said, hissing as he positioned Sam's cock at his entrance. "You're mine."

Sam had a hard time keeping still. "Mmh, so tight!" The words were hissed through clenched teeth. Gabriel ruthlessly sank down on Sam, no pause, just one long slide. It almost made Sam come on the spot. "I can't- I'll come!"

"Be a good boy and move," Gabriel demanded, gyrating his hips a few times. He looked pleased when Sam made a mewling cry, loud enough to disturb curious neighbors. "Oh, yes, baby. Let me hear you."

If Gabriel wanted noise, Sam would let him have it. "Come on then," Sam urged, his heels into the mattress as he did what he was told, fucking hard up into Gabriel. Gabriel made a most satisfying groan. "Ride me hard!." He wasn't going to last, but neither would Gabriel. And Sam would make sure that they both got as much pleasure out of it as possible before they couldn't hold back.

Clearly, being merciful wasn't one of Gabriel's prominent traits. He set a harsh rhythm right away, his face contracted in pleasure and pain, both, and Sam had no choice but to follow.

With his eyes open, wanting to watch every expression, every move, Sam let himself be taken, leaving to Gabriel to direct their moves. Sam provided what Gabriel wanted: hard, deep thrusts; a big cock up his ass. And Sam gave what Gabriel wanted most: himself. Gabriel's ownership was pointed out with every wild move, in the way Gabriel kept his grip firmly around Sam's wrists. Finally he let go, only to put Sam's hands on his own narrow hips.

" _Mine, mine, mine,_ " Gabriel moaned, leaning back, giving Sam a delightful view, watching his thick cock ram into Gabriel's obscenely widened hole. "Say it!" he ordered as Sam's fingers dug into Gabriel's skin, curling around the hills of his hipbones. "Say you're mine!"

"I'm-" Sam could hardly speak, breathless and aroused and so close to coming into Gabriel's tight heat that he could do little but to try and last just for a few more seconds of deep pleasure. "I'm yours, Gabriel, I'm yours!" Sam cried, overtaken by his orgasm, unable to stop or endure or do anything but to surrender entirely.

The empty white bedroom and rumpled white sheets seemed to melt together with a blindingly white pleasure, making Sam hover for a while, his body tensing as the orgasm grabbed him, holding him there for what seemed like eternity. Vaguely he registered Gabriel over him, splashes of come warm on his chest as Gabriel cried out his release, too, hot breath on Sam's neck. Gabriel's teeth and mouth pulled Sam back, the slight pain of a love bite on his neck grounding him, dragging him back to a reality that was made up of Gabriel's embrace and the sticky sensation of come smeared over their bodies. 

Sweat was cooling Sam's skin, almost too cold to be comfortable. But Gabriel rested limply across his chest, warm hands and warm lips. The messy sheets lay like little white icebergs around them, but Gabriel's heated skin was cover enough. They didn't speak for some time, lying quietly together, kissing, as the night covered them in darkness. When the stars came out, there was more lovemaking, more kisses. More heat.

They took a large bite of the night before they finally fell asleep.

In the kitchen, Sam's dinner was left untouched.

Making love all night was serious business and Sam couldn't remember when he'd last been more sore and exhausted and sated than when he woke up in Gabriel's arms. Gabriel looked so relaxed in his sleep, younger and with the traces of a smile on his lips. Sam kissed them, just because he could. That instant he was happy. It would stop soon enough; today he would explain everything to Gabriel, and Sam was sure it wouldn't be pretty. All he could hope for was Gabriel's forgiveness.

Gently Sam disentangled himself and went to shower before breakfast. He believed firmly that a nice breakfast was the best way to start an otherwise unpleasant day. Anger had poor soil to grow in after a cup of estate coffee and a decent meal.

Eggs, bacon and a stack of pancakes was waiting for Gabriel as he finally surfaced half an hour later.

"Morning Sammy," Gabriel said, pressing a kiss to Sam's mouth. Gabriel smelled of toothpaste and of some aftershave, perhaps; wood and oranges. Sam breathed in, to get to Gabriel's own scent, warm and wonderful and addictive. They stood like that for a while, embracing, Gabriel's fingers drawing patterns on Sam's back underneath his t-shirt.

"You should probably sit down or I can't guarantee that your breakfast is still hot when we're done." Gabriel's touch almost crackled electricity.

"You've got a point." Gabriel smiled up at him, mischievous. "I need coffee. I won't mind a fourth and fifth round, only food will be good, before..."

"Yeah. And... we need to talk." Sam wanted to get it over with, the explanations and the inevitable row.

Gabriel let go, maybe sensing Sam's reluctance. "Pancakes, please?" He sat down at the kitchen table, looking hungrily at the stack of golden pancakes. "Can I have strawberry syrup with those?"

Sam laughed. "God, you're like... twelve. Strawberry syrup, then." He took the bottle and slid it across the table before he sat down, helping himself to bacon and eggs.

"Thirteen. And sugar with the coffee, thank you."

Sam poured and put the cup in front of Gabriel. He pushed the sugar bowl in Gabriel's direction. Okay, so they were taking the bitter with the sweet. "We need to talk," Sam repeated.

"If it's about that third time, I admit I was getting a little tired. I'll do better later," Gabriel said, sliding his fingers over Sam's before Sam managed to remove his hand. "I didn't make you scream loud enough to make the neighbors on the other side of the street hear you." Gabriel dug in, tearing a pancake in two with his fingers before he ate half of it.

"I didn't _scream_ ," Sam said, his voice slightly rough from doing exactly that a few times during their night together. "I might have moaned loudly."

"Mm-hm." Gabriel took the sugar bowl and began shoveling sugar into his coffee. "So... talk. I know we need to. It sounds too serious for my tastes, but... I think we both have something to say that needs saying." Gabriel's usually so perky expression waned a bit. There was a small crease between his eyes; a worried frown.

"Yeah. You might not like it." Sam didn't like it either. He was in love, and in a few minutes he might have ruined any chance he'd ever had with Gabriel. But he couldn't lie any longer. He'd been with Gabriel three times and he was head over heels. There was no risk that he'd be any less in love if he continued seeing the man of his dreams. They _had_ to come clean.

Now.

Before the small lies grew bigger and had to be covered up with more and larger lies. Sam pulled out the chair and sat down, his arms on the rickety table. He took a deep breath, bracing himself. "I know who you are, Gabriel."

Gabriel blinked. "You do? Well, good for you. Which means that you listened when I told you I'm Gabriel, sex-god and software engineer extraordinaire." The wrinkle didn't disappear and it worried Sam more than anything.

"That's not what I mean. Of course you're a sex-god, I mean... oh." Sam let out a small moan and winced as he shifted on the chair. "Could we be serious here for a change? No, I know what you do for a living. I know about the Angel Trap."

Sam hadn't thought it possible, but Gabriel paled, then blushed. "Oh, that. That wasn't what I-" Gabriel was rendered speechless for seconds. Sam hadn't thought that would be possible either.

"I know because I am the one who hired you to do the job you're doing. _This_ job. Spying on me."

The wrinkle turned deeper and Gabriel's eyes flashed. He blew out a stream of air, whistling. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, then shutting it again. A few seconds passed and Sam could almost feel the temperature dropping.

"Excuse me... what? Why, Sam?" I don't understand. "So, you lied to me, but... why? Why would you..." The frown didn't get any smaller.

A similar frown appeared on Sam's brow. "Can't say that I'm the only liar here, can I, Gabriel?. You know, you being a software designer and everything. But you lie very well, pretending you want me. Very convincing. Almost believed you there." Sam became defensive although he hadn't planned to. Just as he hadn't counted on falling in love with the guy he'd hired, but the feeling was not a lie. "I didn't lie _per se_. I was trying to get information about how honey traps work," he explained.

"Excuse me, Sam, but I wasn't lying, I was doing my job. The job that _you_ hired me to do, it seems. Is there anything I could have done differently, you think? I was supposed to be a temptation and you were supposed to fall into it. I was hired to fucking make you do what you did, and I swear that I've never allowed it to go so far if I thought you didn't want it. If I hadn't wanted to. I were supposed to flirt with you, not to make love to you. No one could pay me enough money to do what I did... what we did this night." Gabriel pushed the cup away. His mouth made a narrow, tense line of red on his face. "Enlighten me, please, Sam. Why did you lie? What do you think I should have done?"

Now Sam was getting angry. Mostly he was angry with himself for not realizing that he wasn't going to lose Gabriel — because he never had him in the first place. "Maybe you shouldn't have fucked me. Or, you know, kissed me at all, pretending to like me." Sam clenched his fists, then stretched his fingers. He placed his hands flat on the table. "Gabriel, the Angel Trap is investigating my brother. I couldn't exactly ask him if he was fucking around, cheating on his husband, who basically is to die for, so..." Sam could hear how stupid it sounded. "I wanted to help him if I could. Instead I've ruined everything."

"Ruined what? You _used_ me." Gabriel stated, summarizing the situation in just so many words. "Good that we cleared that up. Since I actually believed you when you said you liked me, but you were just trying to get information out of me. And for the record, I don't know anything about your brother; this is my first job in Kansas. But if he's the same kind of lying asshole as you, please offer my condolences to your brother in-law."

"I _did_ like you. I do. I wanted to believe in you, Gabriel. In everything you told me, every time you touched me. But I suppose I got what I paid for." It wasn't what Sam would have said. Not at all. But the icy brush-off was more than he could handle. How could he tell Gabriel now how he had fallen in love with him, how much he'd come to like him? Tears were threatening to reveal how shitty Sam felt. His throat constricted with anger and remorse and with the urgent need he had for Gabriel.

He looked at Gabriel and found nothing but cold disdain in his eyes. "I guess this is it, then? Please send my bill as soon as possible." Sam reached into his pocket and grabbed his money clip. "Or would you prefer cash? I assume that is the way one usually pay for the kind of ser-"

"Don't, Sam. Don't." Gabriel pushed his chair back, the legs scratching roughly over the floor. "As you said, we're done here. _Done_." An expression of pain and sadness replaced the anger for a moment, barely enough for Sam to register, before Gabriel grabbed his jacket and strode out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, the front door was slammed shut so hard that the windows rattled.

Sam sank down on the chair he'd been sitting in. He was too crushed to even cry.

For days his body was sore with the memory of Gabriel's touch, his lips chapped with kisses. Sam curled around himself; every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Gabriel's eyes, Gabriel's smile. It was like he couldn't breathe, like Gabriel was the oxygen he couldn't live without. It was as if his homeless love had turned into a sadness so heavy that it forced him down, unable to do anything but lie there, wounded by his loss. When Sam managed to get up, he did little but to drink some water and continue the coding he was contracted to do. It kept his mind from running back to wallow in the misery he had created for himself, a sea of misery so deep that he felt like drowning in it.

Sam's alarm clock measured out hours and days for the programming and the deadlines that kept his company alive. Apart from the alarm going off once and again, time had lost its importance. The only measurement Sam had need for, was to see the days pass by, knowing that in a few months the pain would lessen, knowing that at some point, set far in the future, he would wake up, not thinking of Gabriel.

Maybe.

Maybe he would never forget the man that had won his heart and then broken it with the hammer that Sam himself had provided.

 

**4\. Debugging the Code**

"Sam? Sam?"

Trying to throw off the drowsiness that lay like a heavy blanket, covering his sorrow, Sam fought to ignore the sound of the voice . "Gabriel," he whispered, unable to keep in the one name that had infested his mind with the deadly disease of love.

"Sammy? What's wrong? You all right?"

A hand grabbed him and shook him.

"No." He forced himself to open his eyes to the grim reality. "Hello, Dean."

"We leave you alone for three weeks and you look like you're dying. You smell like you've been dead for a week, dude! What's up?"

"Go away. Let me die." Sam pulled a pillow over his head. Reality was much better when it was kept away by a stronghold of comforters and cushions.

"Way to make me feel welcome. This hasn't anything to do with me and Cas getting married, has it? Thanks for the congratulations by the way, bro. Although it was nice that I got a 'hello', at least. I mean, we've only been away for weeks. A hello is great. Peachy."

"No. It's fine. Married." Technically Dean's marriage had nothing to do with it. Sam was happy for his brother, or rather he had been before he found the Angel Trap and Gabriel. He still needed to talk to Dean about that, and he did not look forward to it. He really didn't have anything to look forward to as it was. Life sucked.

"Good. I'm happy that you are so willing to share," Dean growled acerbically. "Has it anything to do with the asshole who ran away with half your apartment, because that would kinda please me. Not that I need an excuse to beat Brady up, but it'll look better if there is a reason when I punch him in the face a few times for making my baby bro cry."

"No." Of course Brady had nothing to do with it. Even though Gabriel had been so wonderfully possessive because of Brady's stalker-y behavior. It hurt to think of it and Sam sobbed into the pillow, hugging it so that Dean wouldn't hear. Missing Gabriel so desperately hurt worse than anything short of losing a limb.

Dean patted Sam's shoulder. "Be nice and don't die right away. I'm going to fetch Cas. And possibly a doctor if you insist on having an intimate affair with that pillow." Dean walked out of the bedroom. Sam could hear a muted whisper coming from the hallway.

It was harder to fight Cas. As usual his brother-in-law's awkward relationship with personal space was enough to make Sam move.

"If you're not in the tub in three minutes I'm going in there with you," Cas threatened. "And get some clothes on when you're clean. Preferably something that has been in contact with the washing machine recently."

Sam let go of the pillow. He had to face the world sooner or later, and Cas was relentless. He wasn't ready, though, to let go of the comforter. He managed to sit up, feet on the cold floor, cuddling the blanket and whatever he could get his hands on that wasn't the pillow.

"I've called the nerd herd," Dean said five minutes later. He marched through the bedroom, clearly taking neither _no_ , nor _fuck off_ for an answer. "They're picking you up in half an hour." Dean's hand weighed heavily on Sam's shoulder. "You've lost weight. When did you last eat?"

"Dunno." Sam shrugged. He wasn't hungry and if he had been, the only thing that could still the most imminent hunger was not his to taste.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing you can do anything about."

"All right, Sammy. You don't wanna talk about it, and you know what? That's great. Fine. Just... eat, right? Garth promised to feed you." Dean sat down at the bedside. "Now you get up and get out and we're gonna go out on the town and cheer you up and get you drunk, yeah?"

"I hate you," Sam growled, knowing that Dean wouldn't let him alone before he was up and about.

"Sure you do. Up." Dean coldly pulled the comforter away from Sam. "Twenty five minutes. Better be dressed and looking like a human, or you'll have Garth draped over you like your own personal comfy-blanket slash teddy bear, fussing over you and doing the girl talk thing."

"No thanks," Sam groaned and got up. He could do without Garth's touchy-feely, and being dressed and ready to go to the coffee shop would decimate the risk. He was not exactly in sharing mode.

Which was why Sam was clean, clad and reasonably up for coffee and sandwiches when Garth arrived exactly twenty four minutes later.

They walked to the coffee shop together, Garth's car safely parked around the corner. Of course Garth wasn't fooled by Sam's attempt to appear casually indifferent.

"So..." Garth thrust his hands in his pockets and glanced at Sam, then looking away, letting Sam have some kind of room to accept or refuse.

"Yeah," Sam said and walked a bit faster.

"The agent?"

"Backfired."

"Shit." Garth blew out a stream of air. "Damage control?"

"I kill myself."

"Good thinking. Apart from that?"

"I kill him?"

"Try again, cowboy."

"No idea."

"So?"

"I'm in love with him."

"Shit!" Garth stopped, hands still deep in his pockets. "What happened?"

"I fell in love. Tried to come clear, tell him everything. He didn't like it."

"Strange how people get all hurt when you lie to them." Garth made a face. "I guess he didn't like it."

"Didn't exactly help that I sorta told him he had sex with me for money after admitting that I had used him. Not what I meant to say, though." Sam could feel tears threatening to break through his barricade of indifference. "I fell in love with him, Garth. Almost the moment I saw him, and the second time I was sure. I never lied to him about that. Only about... Actually I didn't lie at all. I told him about Brady, and about me and what I did. I never lied, I just didn't tell him about-"

"M-hm. I don't think it makes that much of a difference if your feelings are at stake and you find out that the one you're in love with has been less than honest with you," Garth said, annoyingly analytic and mature. "I take it he's in love with you too?"

"Mad about me, he said," Sam said, and this time he couldn't hold back the tears. "Now he's just mad."

"Sam... " Garth pulled a hand up from the depths of his pockets and put it around Sam's back. "Come on, we'll help you make it right."

"I know," Sam sniffled. "I just miss him so." He sighed, his breath shaky. "And I'm not sure I can ever make it right. He was so angry with me."

"Not really that strange, mate. But if he's that mad... and I mean both mad and mad about you, he has to be susceptible to common sense when it's backed up by six feet plus of manly goodness."

Garth's words made Sam laugh, choking on the tears. "I hope you're right. Just... he hasn't called or-"

"Have you? Have you even tried?"

"Er-" Sam said. He hadn't. He didn't think that Gabriel would speak to him, and only now he realized how cowardly he'd been. He should have called. Every bloody hour until Gabriel had agreed to listen. He should have sent flowers, apologized, and sent more flowers. He should have found Gabriel's address and camped outside the door — or under the bridge that Brady had suggested that Gabriel lived under. He should have done all that instead of lying in his bed, mourning his lost love. He should have stood up, fighting for what he wanted. For Gabriel. "I suppose you're right about that."

"So why don't we get some food, and then we find out how to make it happen, hm?" Garth smiled his usual happy, naive smile, as if it was a piece of cake, making Gabriel understand that Sam had meant no harm, that the events had somehow taken their own turn when Gabriel had appeared, sweeping Sam off his feet.

Sam's stomach gave an encouraging growl. It had been far too long since he'd eaten. Garth's encouragement helped. Maybe he could salvage the wrecked remains of his relationship with Gabriel. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late.

Kevin and Charlie were already seated when Sam and Garth arrived. "I ordered a salad and a sandwich for the both of you." Kevin pointed at the meal. He was half-way through a chicken-and-bacon sandwich and Charlie was poking at a piece of spinach quiche. "Eat, or Dean will kill us all for not feeding you."

"Your optimism slays me." Sam pulled out a chair. The sandwich smelled heavenly now that his nausea had waned a bit. With his friends and his stomach ganging up on him, Sam succumbed to the fact that he wouldn't be able to win back Gabriel if he had starved himself into exhaustion. Sam grabbed his fork and speared a stuffed olive. The taste of salt and almonds made his mouth water; he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He'd wolfed down half the salad before Garth had managed to even touch his own meal.

They ate in silence for a while, Sam distracting himself by looking at people and cars passing by in the street. It was dark already, the coffee shop a quiet, cozy island away from the hustle and bustle outside. Charlie was working at her laptop, looking very concentrated. Kevin had pushed his plate away, reading one of the books from the shelves behind them. _Flaubert's Parrot._

As soon as Sam had finished his food, Charlie closed the lid of her computer. "So?"

"Yeah." Sam wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "Dunno..."

"Gonna fight for it or not?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"If you mention Hermione now, I'm going to make an attempt to fit you into your own DVD-drive." Sam managed a tense smile. His stomach felt better, but the sorrow and longing still lay as a cold, heavy lump inside him.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Charlie looked guilty. "I was thinking of Ginny. Anyway... What do we do?"

"You fed me. I'm better." Sam was, really. He should have trusted his friends to cheer him up, and although they couldn't do much, their support had made Sam able to stand. "I don't know yet."

"You need to talk to your guy, Sam." Garth pushed his phone across the table. "And if he doesn't want to talk, you try again. And again. And again. You're not a quitter."

"No, I'm not." Sam nodded. "And I will talk to Gabriel... until I convince him to give me a chance to explain. If he still doesn't want-" Sam swallowed his sadness. "If he doesn't want me, I have to accept that. But I can't speak to him now, not here. Not..." Sam wanted to explain that he needed a bit of time, time enough to think about what to say. He was not calling Gabriel from the coffee shop, not when he'd probably be turned down. "I'm calling him tomorrow. And maybe one of you could work on his address, finding out where he lives?" Gabriel, no last name, and the unlisted number had brought nothing when Sam had looked it up out of curiosity, before that awful morning. Charlie might need to hack into the phone company's servers. That'd be a great help.

It was relieving, freeing, to finally act.

Charlie was in the middle of an attempt at finding a back door into AT&T's servers when Dean and Cas showed up. After the usual greetings, Dean grinned at Sam. "That's it, Sammy. No more moping; we're going to get you drunk."

"I don't-"

"Sam, please." Cas sent Sam _The Eyes_. He was defenseless. He'd dreamed of those eyes, envied Dean that he was the one to look deep into them, all blue and soft and innocent. They still worked, but Sam recalled the way Gabriel had looked at him, golden-eyed and strong. He drifted for a moment, thinking of Gabriel.

"...at Wilde's at ten. Come on, Sam!" Castiel looked impatiently down at Sam.

"What? Sorry."

"We have to be at Wilde's at ten. We have a table."

Sam stared at Cas. He couldn't breathe. Then everything, every happy moment he'd had with Gabriel came rushing back, hitting him so hard that he could feel the tears well up into his eyes. "No! Just no!" There was no way Sam could do that. He stood, flinging his chair back so hard it fell over. He didn't care. He looked around, a hurt animal searching for cover. Men's room. Without thinking, Sam almost ran there, caught up in equal parts panic and sadness.

Of all places, Cas had chosen Wilde's?

Sam couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather not go or anything he'd rather not do. Breaking a leg or getting his fingers crushed in the car door sounded downright alluring comparing to a visit to Wilde's. But Cas and Dean were so set on their little celebration. There really wasn't any way he could get out of it; he had to return to the scene of the crime. Being reminded of Gabriel... Sam made a whimpering, sad sound. He was prepared to fight to get Gabriel back, but having his face rubbed in his loss?

God, he had fallen so hard and the last few feet before he'd landed on the concrete of reality had been some of the best moments of his life. And probably the best sex as well. He missed Gabriel like crazy. He missed everything about him, from the strange golden eyes to the razor-sharp sarcasm. He even liked the touch of real meanness that popped up when Gabe encountered someone he didn't like. Oh, the expression on Brady's stupidly arrogant face when Gabriel had cut him down to size... It had been a thing of beauty.

Sam's smile faded. He clenched his fists and unclenched them, tense and at odds with the world. He wasn't good company, but he owed it to Cas and Dean to get his act together and go party with them. He had a few things to atone for after the stunt with the Angel Trap agency, he'd be the first to admit that, not that Dean knew, not yet. As for atonement, the punishment of falling in love with someone he couldn't have hurt bad enough.

Leaning his forehead against the cool tiles, squeezing his eyes shut, Sam groaned. Well, at least he'd managed all of ten minutes without thinking of Gabriel. His Gabriel... Gabriel was everything that Sam had _never_ wanted, all in one small package. Strange how one's priorities changed. There was a far shot from the Armani-clad graphics designer that was Brady, all classy and handsome, to the mad mess that was Gabriel. Sam had fallen for the wrong men, he could see that now, because Gabriel was perfect. Or maybe Gabriel was the wrong type, but exactly right for Sam. Charming, bossy little Gabriel with his ripped jeans and a shirt that had seen better days. A job only this side of sleazy and absolutely no wish to be nice or get along or do anything that didn't suit Gabriel. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sam growled, teeth clenched, slamming his fist into the wall.

"You ready?" Cas opened the door to the bathroom. He stared at Sam, at his bruised hand."You all right there, Sam? You do not look like one who would like to celebrate."

"Well, thank you good sir." Sam tried to look less lost and frustrated. "I'm ready. Promise." He hid his left hand behind his back. "I'm fine, Cas. Not in the mood for dancing, though." For Cas and Dean, though, Sam was going to endure it; and he certainly didn't want to let loose his bad mood on Cas."I'm happy for you and Dean, Cas. I'm perhaps... a little envious of what you have." If the couple had anything. Another excuse Sam couldn't use. _Oh, by the way, I don't wanna go because I'm not sure whether it's you or Dean who fucks around, and also I'm afraid that I'll run into the guy who is connected to the company who is investigating. And I'm in love with him_. Yeah, that'd go well.

Smiling, Cas looked at Sam innocently. "I promise that we're going to have a great evening."

Cas's eyes were very blue and very large and Sam knew that he'd once had this urge to kiss Cas when he looked so endearing. Only the memory certainly had faded, leaving a free spot for the memory of golden eyes shining with mirth. The memory of a quirky smile and a soft mouth that Sam had ravished until it was swollen and pink with kisses. Sam sighed again. "I am the biggest party-pooper these days, Cas. I'm sorry, I really am."

"I've invited some of my friends and two of my brothers. They are coming as well. Took a bit of persuasion," Cas admitted. "One is in love with his business and prefers not to leave her, the other is moping over the lost love of his life. They need to get out too."

"Your brothers?" Sam blinked. "Really? Didn't know you spoke to them at all."

"Used not to. They grew up."

"Anything like you?" Sam could only hope. Maybe a copy of Cas in an older version might be able to cheer him up a little.

Cas looked at Sam in that way again, all innocent."Not really, Sam." Cas placed a hand on his shoulder. "But I don't think that's what you need, either, someone like me."

 _Not what he needed_? Had Cas seen right through him? Had Cas noted that he'd once been attracted to him? Oh, well. Everything else was going to hell in a handbasket. Apart from that, Cas was absolutely right about what Sam needed. Unfortunately there was no way he was going to get it.

 

**5\. The Last Bug**

The air-con was on, which was a blessing. Wilde's was full as usual on Fridays. "Let's get our table," Cas said as Sam and Dean followed him through the throng of people. "By the fireplace."

"I'll go get drinks." Sam was getting better at coming up with apologies. The longer he could put off meeting Cas's friends and family the better. It was hard to be back; everything reminded Sam of Gabriel: the kisses they had shared; the dancing, the corner where they had been sitting, talking for hours, Sam falling in love so fast he still didn't know what hit him. Or, rather he did. All too well. He sighed, trying to shake off the mood. _Oh, Gabriel._

Deciding that the moping had to end, Sam refused the card that Cas handed him. "No, I can-"

"Please, Sam. It's my celebration, mine and Deans. Open a tab for me, please." Cas put on his persistent face. Sam knew Cas too well to argue with him when he got stubborn.

If he had to be honest, Sam couldn't afford paying, either. A round or two or even three, yes, but not an entire all-night party. He took the platinum Amex. "Wow, Cas. Been collecting small change or something?"

"A bit." Cas smiled and signaled with a hand that he'd go and sit down, pointing towards the popular fireplace table. Obviously Cas had connections since he seemed to have appropriated beforehand the most attractive spot in the entire house.

Diving into the crowd of sweaty bodies, Sam made his way to the bar, waiting for a bartender to take care of his order. The guy who had been here last time, the one who had flirted with Sam, was there. "Hello again, gorgeous." the bartender smiled. "Just saw your man a second ago."

"My... man?" The smile that pulled at Sam's mouth disappeared instantly. God, no. That was exactly what he'd tried to avoid. He couldn't see Gabriel, not when his wounds were still open and raw. Sam knew that the wounds would close one day. They would scab and scar, forever reminding him of the man he couldn't have, but damned, did it have to be when he was still trying to stop his love and his feelings for Gabriel from bleeding him dry? Before he'd mustered the courage to try and win him back? Sam could handle calling and being turned down, but being turned down in public? Not what he'd hoped for when he agreed to go here with Cas and Dean.

"Oh?" The handsome bartender's eyes flickered away from Sam, then back. He understood. "Sorry."

Sam couldn't help it. He looked in the direction that the bartender had looked and there he was, Gabriel, looking back at him, eyes burning from emotion. Tears, hatred, disgust, Sam didn't know. All he knew what that he couldn't stay. He'd break. He'd break here, in the middle of the bar, not knowing if he'd ever be able to stand. He turned, clinging to the shred of dignity he had left. "Drinks for the fireplace." He put Cas's Amex on the desk. "For Castiel Winchester. Beer. And... whiskey. Make some cocktails. Whatever." Sam closed his hands around the edge of the bar as if it could help him breathe. As if it could help him stand with Gabriel next to him.

As if he stood a chance at all.

Sam took the credit card when the bartender returned it, and put it back in his pocket. He didn't think he was able to make it back to the table. People around him seemed to disappear and the sounds he should have heard were gone. All he could hear was his heart pounding, his blood rushing. He couldn't stop himself. Gabriel's presence was too strong. He turned his head, tears lurking in the corners of his eyes, burning hotly on his skin. Slowly he raised a hand and wiped the tears away, his eyes set on Gabriel. He couldn't breathe.

"Sam."

One word. Sam fought for air, trying not to have his breakdown right that instant.

Gabriel's eyes were serious, sad. His brow wrinkled, worried or angry, Sam didn't know. "Baby, _don't_." Gabriel reached out, the touch of his fingers making Sam gasp loudly. "Don't cry. I can't..." Gabriel's lip shivered as if he, too, had trouble keeping in emotions that longed to emerge, to be let out in the open. He didn't move his hand, but kept it there, a light pressure on Sam's skin, a heavy impact on his heart.

Sam didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything other than he'd kill to be in Gabriel's arms again.

"I've been here every night, Sam, hoping you'd come." Fingers trailed down Sam's arm. "Why didn't you call?" A pause. "Why didn't I?"

Unable to find any words, anything to say, Sam found the strength to return the touch, a gentle, tentative brush of Gabriel's hand. Powered by the sliver of hope that Gabriel's words had evoked, Sam spread his fingers, allowing Gabriel's to braid with them. They stood there for seconds, immovable.

It was Gabriel who broke the silence, the quiet space they had created in a bar filled with people and noise and music shattering. "I'm in love with you, Sam."

Sam's heart stopped. It stopped working. It simply had had too much. Strangely enough he kept breathing, a miracle in itself, broken entirely as he was. "Don't let me go. Please, Gabriel. Don't let me go."

"Tell me." There was no doubt what Gabriel wanted.

"I- I'm in love with you too. I can't imagine how I'll ever forget you if you... if we-"

"I won't." Gabriel's one eyebrow arched, his mouth twitching upwards, as if a smile had hid itself there, behind the tense lips. "I won't let you go. Not if you wanna stay."

A small nod. "I do." Sam pressed his lips together. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he had to apologize for. He couldn't do that now, he could do nothing but to take what he was offered, against all sense, against all hope. "Gabriel..." It sounded like a prayer.

"C'mon, baby. We'll have mad make-up sex later." The smile spread on Gabriel's face, chasing away the haunted expression in his eyes. "Then, when we're done, we can fight over what I said and what you did, and then we can have more sex. I'll tell you that you were an ass, and you'll tell me I was stupid for being so angry, and we'll both say sorry for being fools. And then we live happily ever after. For now-" Gabriel pulled at Sam's hand. "-for now, I need all the kisses you owe me. Every single one. It's a lot, you know."

Mostly Sam heard 'happily ever after' and 'kisses'. Then he was pulled down into an omnivorous kiss that made the fireplace feel like a fridge. The entire house could have gone up in flames without Sam noticing. Gabriel kissed him possessively, his arms tight around Sam's waist. Sam surrendered entirely. He loved Gabriel's scent, sweet and spicy. He loved the taste of cinnamon and apples and of the drink that Gabriel had been drinking. He loved the the strokes of Gabriel's tongue against his own and he loved the way Gabriel sucked and licked at it. It made Sam hiss, the lack of air making him moan a strained moan into Gabriel's mouth.

"Missed you so much... thought I'd never survive," Sam breathed, his lips moving over Gabriel's, kissing and speaking at the same time, too eager to choose either. "It's all my fault, I-"

"Shhh, Sammy. Later! Kisses now." Another kiss and yet more, until Gabriel was remotely satisfied and allowed Sam to pull away, at least an inch or two. 

"When you walked in that first time, you almost gave me a heart attack." Gabriel brushed his thumb over Sam's kiss-moist lips before he leaned in and kissed Sam again, this time softly.."I had never in my life seen anyone so gorgeous," he confessed, his admission whispered as a small huff of damp air on Sam's cheek. "And I've had my share of good looking men. But you..." He shook his head, a lock of unruly hair falling into his eyes. He looked at Sam, blowing at the lock. "The moment I saw you I knew you were mine. I can't believe I was so foolish to think I could let you go."

"Yours." It was both a question and a statement. Sam didn't mind being Gabriel's. At all.

"Yes. I deserve you." Gabriel wriggled his eyebrows. "For using almost two weeks in this place, pining for you. The pain, Sam-o!" Gabriel made a dramatic gesture, but didn't let go of Sam.

Sam could feel the change in Gabriel's mood. The sadness had evaporated with their hot kisses and the usual sassy Gabriel seemed to have returned. It told Sam more than anything that they were going to be all right. They were going to make it back, or maybe make it forward, to something better. "You are quite used to getting what you want, aren't you? How can you be so spoiled, you're-"

"Good looking, charming and with enough confidence to wallpaper the entire White House in various tasteful patterns?"

"I'd have been nice and said 'modest and with an advanced taste in drinks', but whatever suits you. First you refurbish the entire Capitol Hill with your awesomeness, next you're telling me you're a billionaire or something."

Gabriel shrugged and laughed. "You're so easy, kiddo. I'm a billionaire." Gabriel leaned against the bar, one arm around Sam's waist.

"Then I suggest you go get a new pair of jeans. The ones you're wearing are close to becoming obscene. One more tear and you're practically naked." Sam put his hand over Gabriels free hand, Gabriel's wiry fingers under Sam's bigger ones. Gabriel turned his hand, intertwining his fingers with Sam's. "I don't care that you're poor," Sam stated firmly; Gabriel had to understand that it didn't matter. "Or naked. Actually, I like it a lot when you're naked. I don't have much, Gabriel, but it's enough for both of-" Sam cut himself off. "I was jumping to conclusions here. I mean, I don't even know if you really want to see me again. I thought... despite... maybe?" Sam could hardly get the words out. He bit his lip and looked at Gabriel with his best puppy-expression. He was getting very insecure. Gabriel's personality was overwhelming. All of Gabriel was.

"Oh, wow, Sam-o." Gabriel let go of Sam's hand in favor of his waist. "And here I thought you had a brain to match your height. Lack of oxygen up there, or what? Of _course_ I want to see you again. It goes with the fact that I'm in love with you. In fact I want to see you so much that I won't let you out of sight for a week, maybe two, just to make sure you aren't going anywhere. Might need to chain you to the bed, to be certain you stay with me."

"Yes, please, Gabriel. I would like to see you again, too." Sam said mock-politely. He sighed, unable to stop himself from grinning like a loon. "Maybe get, you know, your real name and your address, just for the sake of it. And there will be no chaining to the bed."

Turning to get a better hold of Sam's waist, Gabriel smirked. "Aw, I have very nice chains. You'll look fantastic, Sammy, all naked and tied up. Ropes, chains... And possibly some whipped cream and a nice strawberry garnish." Sliding his free hand down Sam's arm to circle his wrist, Gabriel indicated where he'd put the ties around it.

"Right." Somehow Sam's brain decided to interfere with any form of coherent thinking, showing a few suggestions to what Gabriel and chains would look like in Sam's bedroom. He felt himself harden. He was so lost. A look and a few words from Gabriel and Sam was done for. He clung to his dignity like a drowning man. "Could we get back to your name and address. Before you tie me up at my place. In case you turn out to be a serial killer or just a total dork who leave dirty socks all over the place. I'd like to have somewhere I can return them."

"And that would help you, how? I'm a totally clever serial killer. Maybe one who kills people with clothes. Suffocating them in a mountain of socks. No traces anywhere." Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. "Except from the socks. And my name is Gabriel. It _is_ my real name. As for an address... I'm sort of... between places right now. Moving here from New York."

"You're... homeless? No? Really?" Shit, if Gabriel lived in a car or on the couch with friends... Sam looked at Gabriel as if he really was a stray puppy that Sam could take home. "You're welcome to stay with me. I have that nice guest room. You saw it... you know... until you find something else. If you want." Sam knew he'd like Gabriel to say yes. Even though they didn't know each other very well, he'd still be willing to take that chance. Now that Sam thought about it he'd never been more sure in his life. He wanted Gabriel so much, and he'd do what it took to get him.

"Sam, that really isn't necessary." Gabriel could hardly stop himself from laughing, not that Sam thought he tried. About to ask what he'd said that was so funny, they were interrupted by just about the most unwelcome company Sam could think of.

"Brady," Sam said in a manner that indicated that he could just as well have said 'Creep' or 'I wanna throw up in my mouth a little'. And neither was far from the truth. "I really wish he'd leave me alone. Oh, and his name is Brady, by the way, not Garth, and he is getting tiresome," Sam explained. "There aren't words enough in the universe to describe how not interested I am," Sam told Gabriel, not caring that Brady could hear. Brady was either stupid — not likely — or as Sam had theorized before, Brady was being persistent only because Sam had company that wasn't him. He'd always been unpleasantly greedy and free with stuff that wasn't his. Sam's empty apartment was proof enough of that.

This evening, Brady's arrogant stick-up-the-butt attitude made him look even more prissy and annoying than usual and just looking at him made Sam want to gag. He asked himself how he had ever fallen in love with Brady. And as he exchanged looks with Gabriel he knew why. He hadn't been in love. Until now he hadn't _known_ how it could be. When he was with Gabriel, everything felt so easy and fun and crazy. Brady's normalcy had been what had weighed it down. Sam hadn't fit into Brady's little box and he never would. With Gabriel there was no box. There was care and freedom and... Gabriel. Life.

Gabriel turned, his back to the bar, his elbows resting on the table top. "Brady still looks like somebody peed in his drink." Gabriel noted, talking to Sam. Gabriel sent Brady a glare."Which isn't too far off. I paid the bartender to do exactly that last time. I hope you liked it, Brady," Gabriel smirked, his arrogance topping Brady's with the force of a thousand nuclear explosions. "Wonder what I could make my friend at the bar do if I order you another drink today, maybe a _Bloody Smurf Jizz_."

Boggled by Gabriel's sheer nerve, Sam asked, "You didn't?" Unfortunately, that was exactly what Gabriel would have done. "And what's a Bloody Smurf Jizz?"

Ignoring Brady who began to look as if he was fuming, Gabriel looked up at Sam. "Did too. A Smurf is blue Curacao, grenadine, Sprite and Bailey's in a flute. Guess what I'd like to use instead of Bailey's."

"Fuck, you're so, so bad," Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud.

Brady's expression was priceless. Brady didn't like being ignored, seeing how he'd always thought that the most important person in the world was Brady. What a pity that Sam didn't buy that any longer, and Gabriel not at all. Brady didn't like the notion that Gabriel had peed in his drink, either. Whether it was true or not didn't matter. Brady's expression made Sam feel decidedly gleeful.

"No, that'd make me _good_ ," Gabriel stated. "Except for the fact that the supply of Bailey-substitute might be cut off by now, for the mere thought of _that_ \- " Gabriel looked at Brady as if he was something he'd just stepped in and very much liked to scrape off of his shoe, "is going to make me unable to get hard for a week. Good that I have you, Sammy. Because when I look at you it's really, really not a problem. Then again, Brady already knows. One look at you, boy, and my dick is... oooh!" Gabriel pulled Sam closer before he stared at Brady once more, the golden eyes hostile and narrow. "So, what do you want now, Brady? Somebody stole the rock you live under? Or is it just that it doesn't sit well with you that I have what you couldn't hold on to? That is what happens when you're just about the biggest jerk in the world. Your boy finds someone else. You really should look into how to treat your man to keep him. Except now he's not yours, but mine."

Brady looked like he'd swallowed something bitter. Seeing how Gabriel took revenge on people it might not be too far from the truth. "And you think you can?" Brady snapped. "What is it that you do, again? Judging from what you wear, it must be something dirty and cheap." Brady glared angrily at Gabriel.

"Hey, Sam. I think he knows me," Gabriel grinned and leaned in to nuzzle Sam's cheek. "Good that you like cheap then, kiddo. So much more fun in bed, right, when I get hot and dirty with you?"

Trying to ignore Gabriel for a second Sam sent Brady a look that could kill. "Brady, don't." Sam felt annoyed and protective. Although Gabriel at a glance wasn't fazed, he hadn't deserved to have the truth thrown in his face like that. With the recession, it was hard to get good jobs, and being a honey trap investigator wasn't that bad. But Sam could hear it in Gabriel's voice, the slight tone of anger and annoyance. "Leave my boyfriend alone," Sam growled, "or I swear to God that I'm going to give you the punch in the face that you deserve."

"I'm your boyfriend?" Gabriel purred and pulled Sam close. "Oh, I like that, Sammy. Let's go somewhere and have exhaustingly sleazy sex!"

Sam certainly didn't mind how that part of the evening was turning out. So, now he had a boyfriend, but because of Brady he had no time to enjoy it. Sam disentangled himself from Gabriel. "I meant it, Brady. Go away, or I _will_ hit you in the middle of your ugly, jealous face."

"You're going to beat me up for that piece of white trailer trash? Oh, please," Brady said in a snotty tone. "If you knew what was good for you, Sam, you'd come back to me. I doubt your little dip into the pool of venereal diseases and ill-fitting clothes is going to compare being with someone like me. I mean, my family came over with the _Mayflower_." He pursed his lips, his nose wrinkling as he gave Gabriel a once-over. "I suppose yours came here with with a third class ticket on a fishing boat from one of the less appealing European countries."

"Yeah," Gabriel said. You're right about that. "Norway and Italy to be precise. Although nobody had invented third class at that point. It was a bit before your time. My great-great-great and then some great-uncle on my mother's side was a Norse criminal that went by the name of Leifr Eiríksson to those who knew him. You might have heard of him. In _History 101: The Discovery of the Americas: Vikings_. My father was one of the Roman Alighieris, you might have heard of those too. Dante, for instance."

Sam looked at Gabriel. Okay, so he had confidence enough and charm, too. He really didn't have to lie to impress. "Gabriel..."

But Brady paled. He clearly had made a connection that Sam hadn't. "You... you're Gabriel _Ericson-Alighieri_? Of the..." He stood there, his mouth hanging open. "Oh God. You are. Fuck. In those clothes... I didn't recognize... _WingWare_. Oh God!"

"Feel free to call me Gabriel, _God_ is so formal," Gabriel said, his smile turning downright cruel. "Or better, you may call me Mr Alighieri. I like it well enough when I speak to a lowlife such as yourself. Now, how would you like your career ruined, Brady? Medium or well-done?"

"W-Wait-" Sam looked from Brady to his boyfriend and back. Judging from the expression on Brady's face, Gabriel was telling the truth and Sam's life had just turned very, very surreal. "But-"

"Sorry, Sam. Moment. Brady was just leaving to save the flotsam that is his life. I'll be with you in a sec," Gabriel said. He sent Brady his most charming smile. "Brady, it was _so_ nice to meet you. If you wish to stay in business, any business, I suggest you leave now, the bar, the city... perhaps even the state. And you will never, ever, approach my boyfriend again. In this lifetime, universe, whatever. In short: piss off, or I'll make you regret it in so many ways that you're going to run out of numbers to count them before I'm done with you. Are we clear?"

"Ohmahgod. Ohmahgod." Brady was falling apart, and he was obviously scared. "I'm so sorry, Mr Alighieri." Looking decidedly ill, Brady fled.

"Hm, I guess I wasn't that important to him, then, since his career was such a deal-breaker," Sam said coolly, trying to make the last five minutes make some kind of sense. "So, boyfriends?"

"Glad that you have your priorities in order," Gabriel said. "Yeah. If you want, because I certainly do. I think I mentioned that I'm in love with you?"

"I'd like very much. And you weren't kidding when you said that you are a billionaire? Not that I care, just for reference. Billionaires aren't usually serial killers. Might get you permission to tie me up a little. You know, without me fearing to be choked by socks."

"Nope. I wasn't kidding. I like it, though, having a nice bank account. It makes me able to buy really interesting sex toys. Hence the chains."

"Toys like me?" Sam laughed happily, although nothing made sense to him except for the fact that Gabriel was his boyfriend and they were in love with each other.

"Toys like you. You're the best. One of a kind, too. Wanna use you a lot."

"You're really connected to WingWare?" Sam had heard of the company, of course. Who hadn't? The only software company in the world on par with MicroSoft.

"You could say that. I _own_ the company, kiddo. Well, me and my three brothers own it, but still. I own a fourth of it, to be precise. And I manage yet another fourth for my youngest brother. Which means I can have it my way, because Lucifer and Michael are always too busy fighting to get anywhere near to conspiring against me before they're at each other's throats again."

"You... what?" Sam had really thought that Gabriel had been joking when he told him the second time that he was a billionaire. A rich businessman, that Sam could believe; Brady was not impressed by just anyone. But Gabriel was the owner of one of the largest companies on the globe? Sam blinked. The world was a little wobbly. "I think I might need to sit down at some point. On a chair. I'm not sure I understand. Anything. At all."

Gabriel's put his hand on Sam's back. "As long as you understand that I truly want you. That I'm in love with you. Then..." Gabriel took a step and turned, embracing Sam. He stroked Sam's back soothingly. "I promise I'll explain everything to you."

Sam could hardly believe it. Now he had to look for that bloody glass slipper. "I feel like Cinderella," he said, still clinging to Gabriel. "It's unreal. I'm in love with you, too, but it's unreal. How did we get here? And the Angel Trap? I thought you were an investigator there. How..."

"A hobby. Well, it's mostly Lucifer's — that's my older brother — hobby. He gets this odd satisfaction, taking people down who doesn't love their spouses enough to treat them right. He thinks that either you stay faithful or you get what's coming to you. Might be a quirk of ours, that we love too much and think that everybody should be like that."

There was no doubt that Gabriel meant what he said; only when Gabriel had told Sam that he was in love with him had he looked as serious.

"I assure you that I don't spy on people for a living, Sam. I happened to be at the Kansas office with Lucifer when Garth called that night — The Garth that was really you, right? I merely picked up the phone because the guy who was on emergency call was out for a minute. My curiosity got the better of me. You faked it so adorably that I wanted to go find out what kind of asshole would cheat on someone so sweet. Anyway, I talked Lucifer into letting me go to investigate this alleged cheating boyfriend." Gabriel paused, looking Sam over. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that said asshole basically was the stuff dreams are made of and not an asshole at all." Gabriel's eyes sparkled. "God, to think of what wouldn't have happened if Alfie hadn't had that bad pizza."

"There is something to be said about salmonella... I hope he's better."

"I made Lucifer give him a raise. It was Lucy who ordered the damned pizza in the first place. And Alfie is fine. He's our cousin, by the way. Really cute. He'd have fallen for you instantly and he'd been in over his head. Not like me. I withstood your charm perfectly. Immune to it. Totally immune."

"For all of ten minutes. Well done, Gabe. You rock." Sam gave Gabriel a double thumbs up and a wide grin. "Immune... Pfft!" Rolling his eyes, Sam leaned in and kissed Gabriel, who immediately showed how unaffected he was by wrapping himself around Sam, kissing back eagerly.

"God, you're so cute," Gabriel groaned, eyes a bit unfocused.

"Yeah, I'm totally cute," Sam made a giddy laugh. "I mean, look at me. All six feet and then some. Gabriel, _cute_ couldn't find me if I had a sign plastered to my chest."

"You're cute." Gabriel said it in a way that didn't invite contradiction. "Kill-me-dead cute. Pity that it doesn't affect me at all."

"Who's cute?"a well-known voice asked. "Oh, Sam. Yes. I assume you could describe him as 'cute'. And why are you-" Cas waved his hand from Sam to Gabriel and back again.

Sam raised his eyebrows and turned around. "Cas, what... "

"Dean and I debated whether you had taken all our drinks, trying to get drunk. I argued that you would never do anything like it." Castiel pointed accusingly at Gabriel. " _You_ , on the other hand," Cas said acerbically, "how many did you steal? I paid for them, Gabriel."

Sam immediately re-entered the state of absolute confusion. "You know each other?"

Cas frowned. He looked displeased. "You haven't told him? Gabriel, you are incorrigible."

"Hello, Castiel. And... told him what?" For once even Gabriel looked as if he understood all of absolutely nothing.

Cas cocked his head and studied Gabriel searchingly, seconds ticking by before he said anything. "You do not know who Sam is?" His brow wrinkled. "You were talking to him. And you had your lips on his mouth."

"Yes, of course I know who Sam is. He's the guy I've been falling madly in love with for the last three weeks. The one I told you about. He's a software engineer. Which you know since you obviously know him."

"You never told me his name. Your... love." Castiel must have put two and two together and gotten four. "Sam is Dean's brother, Gabriel. My brother in-law."

"Wha- Oh." Gabriel lit up. "Huh? Some coincidence. Or maybe not. Proves that we Alighieris have brilliant taste. Sense of quality. So... really? Dean's brother?" Gabriel's cheerful face turned surprised. "So it was you that I- Shit. Sammy, you were about to make me spy on my own brother! Sort of."

"No. Wait... I... could somebody pinch me, please. Castiel isn't... his last name isn't..." Sam threw his hands up. "Enlighten me, someone!"

"Castiel is _my_ brother." Gabriel looked apologetic. "I had no idea that it was your brother he was engaged to, Sam. It didn't occur to me that there was a connection. Google only told me that you lived in the same apartment building; I really didn't know. Castiel called me and Lucy to tell us he that planned to propose to his boyfriend. We hadn't spoken in years before that. Cas didn't elaborate. Just told us that he was marrying a guy called Dean who, according to Cas, was the best thing since sliced bread. He didn't mention a gorgeous younger brother or Portugal. He was too busy apologizing for running away from the family in the first place. And Lucy and I... We sorta had a fallout too, some years ago, so we couldn't really _not_ forgive him for running away. If Lucifer and I were able to work out our differences, it'd be a piece of cake with Castiel."

"So Cas... Cas is the brother whose part of WingWare you're managing? Cas is a billionaire, too?" Scratching his hair, Sam tried to process Castiel Alighieri, the multi-billionaire. Castiel in his old, threadbare trench coat and the horrible suit that looked like something from a second hand store. "But your surname isn't Alighieri, Cas. It'd have noticed if it was."

"I'm their half brother. I took my mother's surname. Our father got around a bit. Not very reliable, I must say," Cas admitted. "It was really nice of our father to give me the same share as my older brothers. I wasn't entitled to anything. So to answer your question, Sam, yes, I am. Rich. Very. If it matters."

"Good that there are two shoes in a pair," Gabriel grinned. "You should probably go find the other glass slipper for Dean, Sam-o. I know Cas. I bet you a few billions that he hasn't mentioned yet to Dean that insignificant tidbit. So watch out for yet another Cinderella experience."

"You may inform Sam that he is now an extremely wealthy man, in that case. Because I told Dean that I am not without resources before we left for Portugal. I couldn't possibly and in good conscience keep such a fact from my husband since I intend to share what little I have with him."

"Aw, you're growing up, Cas. I'm so proud of you," Gabriel teased. "You're going to take care of your own business, too? Because I tell you that I am going to be occupied in the foreseeable future with more enticing tasks than to handle the money you don't care about anyway."

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam. Sam saw no reason to protest. It was reassuring. He didn't care who Gabriel was. He'd fallen in love with the weird little guy, thinking he was poor and working for the Angel Trap because he needed it. Sam couldn't say that nothing had changed, because it had. His boyfriend was one of the richest men in the States — of course it changed something. It still didn't matter, though. Gabriel was still Gabriel, only he was able to buy himself a new pair of jeans like Sam had suggested.

"You're not cheating on Dean, then," Sam said, immediately slamming his hand over his mouth. He shouldn't have said that. He winced, scrunching up his eyes. "Sorry, I had no right to ask that."

"I'm... cheating?" Cas looked like somebody just threw a bucket of cold water over him. "Sam, why would you think that? I love Dean. I would never betray him."

"Then Dean is be- Oh, foot, meet mouth." Sam hid his head at Gabriel's neck. "Sorry, I think this is a bit much for me."

"Sam?" Gabriel nuzzled the side of Sam's face, placing a few soft kisses there.

"Someone used my laptop to go to Angel Trap's website. To book an investigator. And it wasn't me." Sam sent Cas a shy, embarrassed look. "The only ones who could have used it are you and Dean, Cas."

Blushing, Cas coughed. "I- that was me. I just needed the phone number," he said apologetically. "Sam, I just wanted the number to call Gabriel and Lucifer to tell them that I was going to propose to Dean." Desperately Cas grabbed Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that... I only needed the number! It was just a phone number! I didn't mean to-"

"Tell us again," Gabriel teased, managing to keep a serious face. "You needed what? For whom? Could it have something to do with a... number? No?"

Castiel clearly knew Gabriel very well because he ignored the teasing entirely. "I apologized to Sam. I did not think that Sam would suspect that either Dean or I had an illicit sexual connection with another man." Cas made a bitchface that made Gabriel shut up, a remarkable feat in itself.

Sam straightened up, prepared to admit that he'd been a fool. It was so blatantly clear that he should have listened to his friends in the first place and have left the case alone until Dean was back from his honeymoon. "I've been stupid. I'm the one who should apologize, Cas. Of course it was okay that you used the laptop; I should have asked instead of trying to find out behind your backs. God, I've been so stupid." Sam swore to himself on the spot that he was done going behind people's backs.

"You have." Gabriel was not diplomatic. At all. "And you're being rewarded for it. You got me. It's like winning the lottery without having bought a ticket."

"And nobody suggested that you played your part in it, you know, being stupid," Cas berated his older brother. "If you'd done your work properly for the Angel Trap, this would never have happened. Lucifer is going to kill you for it when he hears about it. It is very unprofessional to fall in love with the clients, Gabriel."

"You think? Then we better not tell Lucy, right? I'd hate to be dead when I've found such a lovely young man to corrupt, all by myself." Gabriel pursed his mouth, tapping his lips with a finger. "I know what we do. We tell him I didn't do it on purpose? You know, like when you fell in love with Dean. I doubt that was on purpose, either. Love sorta doesn't work that way, Cas. I forgot to think, and that should tell all there is to say about that topic, that I lost it entirely for another man."

"I suppose it's a question of time before Sam gets himself a Portuguese holiday, then?" Cas looked extraordinarily smug.

"If he wants one, I'll be happy to provide," Gabriel agreed. "With everything that comes with holidays in Portugal these days."

It sounded very much like one of Gabriel's insane proposals. It made Sam laugh. "I've never been to Portugal. How soon can we go?" Sam was so happy. They still had make-up sex and a long talk to deal with, the one substantially more interesting than the other. But Gabriel was his, and Gabriel most certainly thought that Sam was his as well, not that Sam had any intentions of contradicting that notion. 

"Are you asking a man with a private jet how long it will take him to grab the man he loves and fly away with him to a foreign country where he can seduce him on a beach with palms and drinks and secret trysts in starlit coves? A country, mind, which supports equal marriage?"

"Mmm," Sam said, as if he was thinking it over thoroughly. He hooked his finger around one of Gabriel's belt straps, pulling him closer. "How long?"

Gabriel slid a hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Get your phone, kiddo. Call a cab, I'll call my pilot."

Three days later in Portugal, Dean and Castiel attending, Gabriel Ericson-Alighieri married Sam Winchester, thus making him one of America's richest men.

And the happiest.

Nobody ever heard from Brady again.


End file.
